Come Cryin' To Me
by alittlesummerwine
Summary: After the death of her sister, Donna Troy, Wonder Woman turns to Batman for comfort and solace. BMWW.
1. Come Cryin' To Me

**Title: Come Cryin' To Me**

**Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics, Donna Troy, Wonder Woman, or Batman.**

"_When you're tired of it all and tears need to fall, your back's to the wall, come cryin' to me…You don't have to be strong, you don't have to hold on, you've been there too long, come cryin' to me" - Lonestar_

_Flashback_

He was always there for her.

Sometimes, she wasn't sure how he managed it or even if she cared. All she knew was that whenever she needed him, he was there, letting her cling to him as she sobbed out her grief, cloaking her in the darkness and the shadows that always seemed another part of who he was, of how he thought of himself.

The darkness wrapped around her just as surely as his arms, but she couldn't feel it in the comfort and warmth of his arms, secure and safe no matter the turmoil and sorrow that had entered her life when she had learned of the death of her sister, the unassailable grief that was being rained out on the Kevlar of his uniform. Her mind felt shadowed, hazy, but she knew enough to realize that he was being unbelievably patient, holding her in a rare moment of true weakness for both of them, allowing their emotions to spring free in the harsh reality of the moment.

She had lost her sister today, lost the woman that the world knew by so many names – Donna Troy, Wonder Girl – but names didn't matter. To Diana, she was simply a sister, in more than the tradition of the Amazons, a piece of her soul, a piece of her heart, and a friend in so many meanings of the word.

And that light had been stripped from Diana's world, bringing her into the arms of the man who knew about the darkness, who knew how to survive when the lady known as fate threw out her worst. He had picked up the shattered pieces of his life so many years ago, reforging it and making that boy into the man that he was now, the urban legend that roamed the streets of Gotham in an effort to protect and harbor those in the city that had taken his parents away from him, to prevent others from suffering that same sense of loss.

That shattering sense of loss, the aching heart that felt barren and empty.

He knew what it was to lose, to face the deaths of those closest, and to continue in whatever form, whether vigilante or ambassador, whatever role suited and fit. There were many that would say that he didn't care, that since that night so long ago, he had never cared. But she knew differently. It wasn't that he didn't care; it was that he couldn't help but care. And for some, like the Batman, that kind of depth of emotion ran so deep that it scared, that they had to shut themselves off in order to stay sane, stay alive and in control.

He was the strongest man that she knew, but also the weakest. His mind gave him strengths that she couldn't even comprehend, that tactical analytical brain always searching out the foibles, the discrepancies, and the reasons behind the logical and the illogical. Sometimes, it was like watching a computer, his brain turned around information so quickly, processed everything so easily, spitting out facts and plans without conscious effort.

But emotions couldn't be processed, couldn't be simply digested and dealt with appropriately, and that gave him considerable pause, considerable difficulty in opening his heart and understanding what lay within.

Today, though, he had allowed his heart to open just a sliver and consented to let her inside, to allow her access to the inner recesses that had for so long been denied her. And it had all begun with a question, with the death of her beloved sister.

After her alleviation of Superman's guilt, she had walked outside, watching him fly off into the air in a flash of red and blue, barely feeling the breeze on her cheeks as she'd walked out in the tiny courtyard, knowing that he would be there, clinging to the shadows, but still there.

Striding forward to the low wall that enclosed the courtyard, she spoke softly, seeing a flash of cape in the darkness that lay behind her. "He feels responsible somehow."

"Do you?" he murmured, his tone just as deep as ever, but somehow, less brusque, more caring, with a depth to it that was rare for this illusive and enigmatic man.

Curling her arms tightly around herself, striving for warmth, she answered, "I should have been there to protect her. I should've _sensed_ that she needed me."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his movements, she watched him come up to her side, giving the simple comfort of his presence that had become so vital to her, no matter that at that point they had been only what could have been termed friends, albeit close friends. "She was my sister," she murmured, working desperately for control, her throat tightening with every word, every emotion that clogged her airway. She gazed around at the darkness, the perfect setting for the grief that was threatening to tear her apart. She could barely see the beauty that shone through the shadows of the courtyard, her eyes welling as she looked up into the strong, harshly lit face, his lips unmoving, his eyes hidden by the cowl, but his mere presence lending her…everything.

And with that, Diana could no longer hold back. Collapsing into herself, she allowed the tears to overflow, to stream down the cheeks that lay pale in the moonlight and ashen with grief. Hands wiping ineffectually at the pale traces that were spilling down, she was surprised but barely able to comprehend his actions fully when he wrapped the billowy cape around her, securely pulling her into his arms and letting her grief pour into his Kevlar covered chest.

"She was a part of my soul," she murmured into the darkness…

-

_**To be continued…**_

_**Please review and tell me what you think…**_


	2. Enjoy the Silence

**Title: Enjoy the Silence **

**Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics, Donna Troy, Wonder Woman, or Batman. Pity. **

_"All I ever wanted/All I ever needed/Is here in my arms/Words are very unnecessary/They can only do harm" – Depeche Mode, Enjoy the Silence _

_Flashback _

Looking back at that moment, at the time when she had finally broken down at the loss of her sister, she realized it was that moment that had changed things between them, when she had ceased to be Wonder Woman and had instead simply been herself, been Diana crying in his arms, surrounded by his warmth. It was telling that it was he who she had turned to in order to break down, in order to finally release that surfeit of tears and let herself be comforted. It wasn't a conscious decision, it wasn't because he had been the only person there; it was because he was strong enough to allow her to be weak, because he, unlike so many others, understand what it was like to lose not only someone the world saw as a sidekick, but who you knew to be family, to have the bonds of friendship and fighting, and in her case, sisterhood.

And now, her sister, her true sister in every sense of the word, was gone, destroyed by a Superman robot turned lose on the world. It no longer mattered that she was beloved by the world, with friends galore and families that would mourn her passing. None of that seemed to matter anymore.

Donna was gone.

And so, she sobbed out her heartache and helplessness into that Kevlar covered vest, somewhat surprised that his arms wrapped around her, pulling her in closer rather than pushing her away as she'd almost expected him to do. It seemed more of a Batman type of move. But then, it also seemed to define Batman in that he was there for her, a part of the shadows, but willing to put aside whatever memories he was facing today and just hold her, allow the tears to come and the sadness to fade with the flowing of tears

It had been that day, that moment, she mused now, when things had truly begun to change. Before they had always had somewhat of a rivalry in a way, a stubbornness that permeated both of them and a need to compete and win. That was why they had started to train together years before – neither would allow the other any mercy and both of them learned from the other, from not only the movements, but the control of his movements and the passion of hers. And they had incorporated those parts of each other in themselves.

Now they were incorporating their mutual memories of loss into togetherness, into the need to be there for another other and just let the sorrows go. With anyone else, Diana would have felt the need to talk, to remember Donna as she had been, or convince them that she was strong, she was fine, she would, in time, get over the death of her sister.

With him, she didn't need to say those words. She just needed to cry.

He hadn't stayed that night. He hadn't tried to kiss her or do anything that suggested more than friendship. And yet, it had been one of the most intimate moments that Diana could remember, standing there in the darkness, his cape wrapped around her as the wind whipped around them and the scent of flowers lay heavy in the air.

It was to him that she had turned that night and it was to him that she had turned ever since.

He had left with barely a word that night, no more than a whispered, "Diana," that lay on the wind so that she could hear it as he left, swinging through the air. His warmth was gathered around her and she could still feel the cape billowing around her almost like a caress on the skin, even if it was no more than a memory.

She stood there for a few moments, watching as his figure grew smaller and smaller as he faded into the shadows of the night, as he left her side to go to the aid of so many others, as he used his memories in order to fight, in order to protect. It was one of the things that she admired about him, that he could use his demons to combat evils, even if he couldn't quite bring himself to actually face them. And knowing his history, Diana wasn't exactly sure that she could blame him for having trouble dealing with the past. She wasn't entirely certain how she would deal with this crisis, with this loss, in her own life.

After he left, she had taken a few minutes to strip him from her thoughts, even if the lingering warmth still lay on her skin. Instead, she sat on one of the benches dotting the courtyard, back straight as she watched the night skyline, as she asked her gods to remember her sister and grant her a place of honor and glory in the Elysian Fields.

And she took a minute to think back to the services earlier that day to honor Donna – the words of comfort, the softly shed tears of so many, and the promises made by friends and family. Everyone had been so supportive, at least for the most part. But she refused to dwell on the negative of that day, on the harsh words of Terry's ex-wife. She wasn't sure that she could handle those words in her present state and, cowardice it might have been, she decided instead to sit and gaze at the stars, to see them sparkle and shine and think about Donna.

And if that night had changed things between her and Batman, between Bruce and Diana, the following days truly showed her the chasm between their old relationship and what was developing in their new one…

_**To be continued… **_

_**Please review! **_

_To Reviewer** Mystic Weaver – **Awww, thank you! I hope that I still haven't done wrong in your eyes. I don't mind writing this angst because I know that things will get better in the future, that a happy ending of sorts awaits. And I can't wait to get to it! Glad you like seeing this time in their lives and there's more to come! (Maybe even his POV on the situation) _

_To Reviewer **SSJ04 Mewtwo** – In answer to your question about how many chapters this story will be, honestly, I have no idea. I'm just winging it. No plot, no nothing. I may eventually sit down and figure it out, but for now, let's say 8, a nice good number. It never occurred to me that it's both fluff and angst at the same time. An odd combination – hopefully I can keep it up! _

_To Reviewer **T – **I'm trying to update soon, but too many things are going on in my life! And I've learned by now that if I update over a weekend, no one ever reviews. Breaks my little heart. I'm glad you liked it and I really appreciate the compliments. Hopefully, I can continue to deserve them in your eyes! _

_To Reviewer **Lauren** – Thanks! It is a really interesting subject. As soon as I saw it, I thought to myself, I have to write that! It will definitely bring more BMWW in the future chapters. Provided anyone wants one! So, yes, if people like it and review, there will definitely be a relationship between these two! _

_To Reviewer **the traitor** – Thanks! Glad you loved it. And I don't mind broken records when they're good! smiles I promise to continue! As for the typos, can you tell me what you thought were typos? I went back over and I can't seem to find any, so maybe we're looking at things in a different way. If there are mistakes, I want them changed!_


	3. Hanging By A Moment

**Title: Hanging By A Moment**

**Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics, Donna Troy, Wonder Woman, or Batman. Pity.**

**Beta-ed by the wonderful Lavender Gaia!**

"_I'm falling even more in love with you, letting go of all I held on to, I'm standing here until you make me move, I'm hanging by a moment here with you" -Lifehouse_

_Flashback_

That night had been fitful and restless. Finally, unable to sleep, tormented by her helplessness and her memories, Diana had again made her way out to the courtyard on the Embassy grounds where she had stood only hours earlier, wrapped in the arms of the Dark Knight while she had unleashed the emotions that had plagued her ever since she had learned of the death of her beloved sister, Donna Troy. Even now, it was hard to stomach that she would never see those blue eyes so like her own, the radiant smile, and the vibrant personality that all combined to make her Donna, that separated her from Diana and had made her so special and unique.

And now, that person was gone, ripped from this life and hurled into another, an afterlife that Diana wasn't sure was prepared for the likes of her little sister. With a smile on her face, she considered all that had come before, all the special and tender moments between herself and her sister, from making pancakes for breakfast to sisterly chats curled up next to one another on a sofa in the apartment. Tonight, she sought only to find meaning in her sister's death, to understand why the gods had chosen to strip something so precious from the world and leave her empty and alone inside.

She remembering something, a flicker of a memory from earlier this evening, when she hadn't been alone, but had been comforted, allowed for a moment to find solace in the arms of a man who wasn't known for his sweet and gentle personality, but his darkness, the harsh view he took on reality and the strength it took him to face down the worst the world had to offer and come away unbroken, if bruised.

Diana respected that. It had been one of the things about Bruce that she'd been so drawn to, so intrigued by. A personality such as his own, the challenging, domineering man who clung so desperately to the shadows, was a beacon in hope in a way that few could truly understand. She wasn't even sure that he understood, and that alone amazed her. He didn't seem to need the glory or the recognition, just the perfection that was doing his job and saving lives.

In a way, she came to understand much later, that he was saving through his work in Gotham, saving the part of him that had been shattered so many years before, broken in the wake of his parents' deaths. But he had persevered, he had picked up the pieces, and how could Diana not respect that ability, that strength?

For a man who tended to shy away from all outward emotion, Diana mused, he had been remarkably thoughtful and tender earlier tonight, content just to hold her while she sobbed out her grief. He hadn't given her words of comfort and sympathy and from him she hadn't needed them. She had simply needed him.

And now, she was amazed that it had taken her so long to realize that those emotions were inside her, that she had been unable to recognize what lay within her own heart, within her own soul.

A part of her wanted to go to Gotham, to seek out the Dark Knight and tell him of her feelings, but she also knew that he would reject her, that he would simply see her actions as springing from grief rather than true emotion. Batman was nothing if not logical. With a weary sigh, she sank onto one of the benches, unable to stop the single tear that traced it way down her cheek like a finger, soft and unnoticed.

But she looked up in surprise when a gloved finger traced the path of that single tear, catching it on the tip before rubbing it between thumb and forefinger as if forcing it to disappear. The figure swept back his cape and sat down on the cold stone bench beside her, once again enveloping her in his arms and lending her his warmth and the comfort that only he could provide.

"Bruce?" she whispered, not wanting to break the spell of the moment, the tenderness of the gesture, so rare to the Batman that she thought she had known prior to today. But today had brought out a different side, a part of him that identified with her grieving and had allowed himself to break down his instinctive barriers and show her that he cared, that he understood.

"Bruce? Why did you come back?" she asked, her head buried against the heat of his neck, her hand over his heart, feeling the steady pounding beneath her fingers that proved that, even though his actions didn't always suggest it, Batman did indeed have a heart. Popular debate in the League always seemed to question its existence and Diana sighed; it was nice to know that tonight his heart beat for her.

"Patrol was finished," he answered gruffly, obviously not wanting to go into the reasons behind his sudden reappearance. "Thought you might have trouble sleeping." And with those words, Diana squeezed him a little tighter, thankful that he understood how hard tonight was going to be for her, how hard it was to say goodbye to her sister. He knew was it was to lose family and he knew what it was like to lose someone close to him, like Jason. If anyone would value what she was feeling right now, it would be the Dark Knight, the man who had lost so many.

And suddenly, she wished that she could take some of his strength. Her Amazonian physique simply couldn't hold up under the emotional demands of her sister's funeral service, and she was grateful for his support, for his arrival here tonight just when she had started to feel so alone.

And that moment, that quiet almost embrace in the darkness, solidified her feelings, making her realize that no matter what Bruce thought, her feelings for him had emerged today, had finally made themselves known to her. Now, it seemed that she couldn't tamp them back down, push them back into the depths of her soul where they had been hiding for so long, unbeknownst to her. She wondered if perhaps this was the irony of the gods at work – that she had to lose her sister in order to gain love, or at least gain knowledge of what love felt like when it was allowed to be set free.

Of course, she hadn't told Bruce; she didn't even know if he returned her feelings. All she knew was that for a man most considered cold, reserved, and aloof, he had gone out of his way to give her the solace and the comfort that she had so desperately been craving. Without words, without her asking, he had simply provided the basic need of her heart – warmth.

At the funeral, she had wondered if she would ever be warm again, if she would ever be able to heal the jagged wounds that had been sliced into her heart when she'd found out that her sister had died. And he had given her that warmth. Odd that it had taken something so horrible in order for her to understand her feelings, to allow her to give up the outer strength that she carried in order to see into her own depths, her own emotions. But, then, that was the capriciousness of the gods, playing with her life and that of her sister's at their whim.

Her sister was dead and she wondered if there was a purpose to it, something greater than the revelation of her own heart. That was insignificant in comparison to Donna's life, but she knew that the gods of her faith worked in mysterious and sometimes incomprehensible ways. Her questioning them wouldn't change the truth: Donna was dead.

"Bruce," she murmured into the shadows and his arms tightened around her, sharing his warmth and the darkness of the night with her. He didn't say anything more, but Diana knew that he was listening and without a second thought, in the next emotionally charged moment, she whispered, "Thanks," and tilted her head, meeting his lips with her own in a bold gesture that stunned and rocked them both…

_**To be continued…**_

_**Please review!**_

_To Reviewer **T – **Yeah, people rarely seem to review on weekends. Lots of other things going on, I guess. And this time of year, everyone's gearing up for the holidays, buying presents and attending parties and whatnot. Hopefully this chapter is a little less emotional and shows that things are definitely changing between BMWW for the better, for the future. I'm so glad that you like my stories and that you think I'm talented! I do enjoy the compliments. My life is a little crazy these days, so compliments are like candy to me. Necessary for survival! Hehe. Or chocolate or something. And my first guess as to where you live – England. You seem to review about the same time the other Europeans do as well. If not, then it's a very interesting coincidence._

_To Reviewer **Lauren** – Yup! BMWW will definitely continue and their relationship will grow. I think that sometimes it takes a moment like this for two strong people to come together and finally admit their feelings for one another. Hopefully I can show that._


	4. Open Your Heart

**Title: Open Your Heart**

**Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics, Donna Troy, Wonder Woman, or Batman. Pity.**

**Unbeta-ed version.**

"_Open your heart to me, baby, I hold the lock and you hold the key/Open your heart to me, darling, I'll give you love if you, you turn the key" - Madonna_

_Flashback_

"Bruce," she murmured into the shadows and his arms tightened around her, sharing his warmth and the darkness of the night with her. He didn't say anything more, but Diana knew that he was listening and without a second thought, in the next emotionally charged moment, she whispered, "Thanks," and tilted her head, meeting his lips with her own in a bold gesture that stunned and rocked them both…

He let himself just feel for just a minute, to let the press of the lips she'd suddenly bestowed on him mean something more than grief, more than a desperate seeking for comfort. But he knew, just as she did, that all the kisses in the world weren't going to bring back Donna, and that what she did tonight, she would most certainly regret her actions tomorrow, however innocent they might be at this moment.

But, for just one more second, he was content to have his lips against this woman's, this princess and ambassador who had touched his heart with her grace and quiet confidence today, not letting anyone or anything rattle her as she'd dealt with her grief in the only way that she knew how: with poise. He supposed it was an inherent Diana trait as he'd never seen her any other way, regardless of the situation.

The tears had been in a weaker moment between friends and he'd known that they were due, that at some point, she was going to need to release all the emotions that were clouding her mind and her heart, and just break down. And he'd known from the start of today that he wanted to be the person in whose arms she finally clung as she discharged all that emotion, everything that was weighing her down, including that slim possibility of guilt. He'd known that emotion before, known it's harsh and stinging presence, especially when someone younger, someone close, was involved and how difficult it was to move past the grief and remember all the moments that had come before.

He understood.

And that's why he had made sure that he was there at the end of the day, that after she bid Lois and Superman goodbye that he'd been the presence in the shadows, just as he always was. But today, it wasn't for Gotham, it was for Diana.

She was one of few women that he understood to some degree and respected to an even further degree. She had a moral code and just a simple goodness about her that had somehow managed to charm him over their years of knowing one another, building a friendship of sorts. He wasn't sure when his mind had wondered at the possibility of more, only known that it had been considered and processed in his brain, analyzed. Even now, he wasn't sure what ultimate conclusion he had reached, only that there was a germ in his brain wondering about the what-ifs, the maybes, and the possibilities, something that he rarely allowed to happen, much less to continue. Usually, those germs, those seeds, were snapped off before they rooted.

But with Diana, the question still lingered.

And now, he eased himself back, keeping her close in his embrace, but removing her cool lips from the heat of his own before she realized that something dark and dangerous lingered under his skin around her, something more dark and dangerous than himself. His feelings for her were sometimes, despite his work, uncontrollable. He'd done his best to ignore them, but still they persisted. But they'd stayed hidden from her bright blue eyes and he didn't intend to change that now. Relationships were not for him.

No matter the beauty and the wit, the goodness, of the person with whom he wanted a relationship.

And so, he eased himself back, slipping his chin onto her head and resting his stubbly jaw against the softness of her curls. They fit together well, her height complementing his own and her curves fitting into the angles of his body. They were a contradiction in terms, each of them, he mused. She was a soft and beautiful woman the whole world longed to be like, but underneath, she had a fiery, indomitable spirit and strength that was almost unparalleled. He, although he was loathe to admit it, was composed of an outside of steel, forged by years of hard work and determination, while inside, he posed a nature that called out for him to save everyone, to sacrifice himself time and again to protect and provide for the safety of others.

It was that trait that had led to Jason and that trait that had gotten Jason killed.

So, therefore, he understood Diana's emotional upset and frustration, her love for her sister, and the guilt that would be racing through her system, fueling her blood and pummeling her heart.

"Diana," he murmured, wanting to tell her that he understood the kiss, that he didn't expect something more from her, that he knew it had been a gesture of comfort and of need. And he was simply glad that she had chosen him to revel in that moment.

She knew what he was going to say, that it had just been her emotions rising to the surface after losing her sister, that she had just needed someone, anyone, and he had been there. A part of her wanted to tell him that yes, it had been nothing more than a moment of need and confusion, simply because she wasn't sure how he would react to the idea of anything more, and because she didn't' think he would see her feelings for what they were: true and real, not the fleeting momentary confusion and grief that he would see that kiss as.

"Bruce," she answered, halting his words before he managed to utter them. She didn't want to hear that he understood, that it had been nothing more than a friendly gesture on his part.

And so, she took her heart in her hands and handed it to him, at least a small piece of it.

Pulling back, she left her hands around his waist, tucked underneath his cape, and glanced up into the white shields of his eyes. She longed to pull away his cowl, but wasn't sure how he would react to it. In fact, knowing Bruce as she did, she knew that it would probably be best for him if she left the cowl intact, so he could process his emotions logically without her seeing it in his face. However, that didn't make this any easier on her.

"It wasn't grief. It wasn't comfort. It was me, needing you. No one else."

He hadn't moved. In fact, his body had stilled, mutated into something hard and cold before her very eyes. She wasn't sure what that meant – if he was going to push her away or pull her into his arms. Betting on the first, she gathered her courage, the strength of her sisters, her gods, and Donna, and continued. "I have feelings for you, Bruce, and while I'm grateful that you were here today, both for me and for Donna, that kiss was about those feelings and not about my gratitude."

Turning away, unable to stare into the nothingness of his cowl and just worry and wonder, she instead turned toward the dark lushness of growth outside the courtyard, warming herself with her arms and hoping that she hadn't made a mistake in admitting her feelings. Bruce wasn't exactly the simplest man, emotionally, and even one wrong word would send him away, so that he could analyze and try to prove whether or not she meant it.

Choosing her words carefully, she let her arms dangle at her sides, not wanting to appear needy or confused, and looked back at him over her shoulder. He still stood there, stunned, and she smiled, knowing that that was exactly what that expression was, regardless of how little she could see of his face. She knew a man who was stunned by a woman's proclamation of, well not love, but of caring, and that gave her the courage, the boldness, to continue.

"I kissed you because of those feelings, Bruce, feelings of tenderness and affections and maybe one day, love. Perhaps you will choose to return those feelings, perhaps together we can have some kind of relationship, as more than friends. But no matter what you ultimately choose, that gesture, that kiss, was about more than just friendship or gratitude. It was about you and me."

Taking confidence from his silence, from the fact that he hadn't yet rejected her or spurred her and simply walked away, into the night as was his wont, she faced him dead on, letting her emotions and everything she felt for him flood into her eyes and, smiling femininely, letting her fingers cruise down his solid jaw, added, "And I want more, Bruce, more kisses stolen in the moonlight, more shared moments between us."

Hearing a cough from behind her, she turned to see the budding rays of sunlight gracing the sky and another, highly embarrassed, presence in her courtyard.

_**To be continued…**_

_**Please review!**_

_To Reviewer **Ágústa – **Thanks! Honestly, sometimes I really like an angst ridden romance and other times, I just want the happy endings and to hell with the angst. In this case, you're right, it's an angst romance, but somehow, to me, I don't see it that way. I think it's because the angst has everything to do with the loss of her sister and not the burgeoning romance with Batman. Either way, I know what you mean about it making you think about losing your own sister – I'm not sure I'd handle it any better or worse than Diana does, but I'd like to think I'd have that same dignity. But thank you for the amazing compliment – I'm glad that my story made you stop and think for a moment and I return the big smile to you! Thanks!_

_To Reviewer **Lauren** – Thank you! I appreciate all the lovely compliments. It's such a poignant and emotional point in her life and I just love that she turned to him for support and comfort. I'm glad you like it and that you think it's one of my best! Thank you!_

_To Reviewer **T** – I think that on the weekends, people actually manage to get out of the house and do things – hang out with friends, run errands, or just relax and enjoy not having to go to work. They don't need fan fiction for escape like they usually do. I appreciate the genuine and genuinely nice/wonderful compliments – they make my day reading them! Compliments are definitely necessary to the survival of a writer – and criticism. Builds ego and character. Third guess: Australia. I'm trying here! Hope I updated soon enough for you!_

_To Reviewer **Mystic Weaver** – This is actually in response to your review for chapter 2. Thank you! Honestly, I don't mind that you have nothing to criticize about. But feel free if you find something. I'm glad you find it a pleasure reading my work and I promise – a hook up eventually!_


	5. No One Is To Blame

**Title: No One is to Blame**

**Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics, Donna Troy, Wonder Woman, or Batman. Pity.**

**Un-betaed version. If you notice any mistakes, please email or pm me. Thanks.**

**You all are amazing! Thank you for all the reviews and I hope you continue to enjoy this story!**

"_You can build a mansion, but you just can't live in it/You're the fastest runner but you're not allowed to win/Some break the rules, and let you cut the cost/The insecurity is the thing that won't get lost…" – Howard Jones_

Sometimes, Diana mused to herself, looking back at the dark and brooding presence behind her, all it took was one moment in order to change lifetimes. Never had she imagined in all her years that it would be this man to take her heart, that it would be in that moment that she had finally found the courage to not only admit it to herself but to him as well. In the death of her sister, Diana had found a part of herself.

There were days when she still grieved, days when she saw Donna on every face that she passed, heard her laughter echoing throughout the embassy. Days when she knew that her hope was futile. But still, some part of her refused to believe that her sister was really gone, that they would never again meet in this world.

And then there were days such as this one, when she felt the need to look back, to remember all that had passed in her life, all the moments that had led to this one. And looking up into the blue eyes calmly watching her, gauging her mood, she smiled softly and caressed his stubborn jaw in a gesture that spoke of longstanding affection and familiarity.

_Flashback_

Taking confidence from his silence, from the fact that he hadn't yet rejected her or spurred her and simply walked away, into the night as was his wont, she faced him dead on, letting her emotions and everything she felt for him flood into her eyes and added, "And I want more, Bruce, more kisses stolen in the moonlight, more shared moments between us."

Letting her fingers cruise down his solid jaw, she smiled softly, femininely, and told him, "And I would be more than willing to start with the kisses."

Hearing a cough from behind her, she turned to see the budding rays of sunlight gracing the sky and another, highly embarrassed, presence in her courtyard.

Without the slightest bit of embarrassment on her own part, Diana let her fingers rest on Bruce's hard jaw, refusing to back away from her bold maneuver simply because someone else was witness to it. When Bruce tried to move away, uncomfortable with the fact that there was another presence, particularly this presence, she simply tightened her grip on his jaw, applying gentle pressure as she smiled at the guest.

"Hello, Nightwing. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

He looked down at the ground, his expression one of such abject misery that she couldn't help but be moved by it. Giving Bruce's jaw one last caress, knowing that he would disappear into the shadows the moment she released him, she relinquished him anyway, all the while aware that her words would be echoing in his mind throughout the upcoming hours. He would analyze and dissect them, wondering if she had, even just for a second, meant her words. Ultimately, he would reach whatever conclusion suited him best, but her heart smiled at the thought that tonight, the Batman wouldn't sleep for contemplation of her words.

Tomorrow was soon enough to finish their little discussion. For now, she had more important matters on her mind – what the loss of Donna would mean to this young man.

She took a step towards Nightwing and immediately knew that Bruce had vanished into the darkness, taking her words with him as he departed without a sound. She wanted to turn around and grab him, to shake some sense into him, to make him understand that she did indeed care for him, but she also knew that Bruce wouldn't accept her words until he had scrutinized and evaluated them as only Bruce knew how. It was, oddly enough, part of his charm: that utter determination to find the answers.

With a sigh, she took a seat on the bench, gesturing for Bruce's adopted son to join her, hoping that both Bruce and Dick could eventually work past their differences and now, their mutual embarrassment. Still, she was glad that Dick had come here tonight, no matter what confidences and intimacy he had interrupted.

"You miss her, don't you?" Diana asked softly as he took a seat next to her, inches away in distance but miles away in thought.

He was quiet for a moment, looking out into the lushness that bloomed just beyond the walls of the courtyard. In a movement similar to one she had seen his father give countless times, he turned his head, his eyes piercing hers as if they could penetrate into her soul and extract all her secrets.

"Yes," he said briefly, the words ripe with longing. Diana had known of the closeness between Troia and Nightwing – the two had been best friends since their early days in the Titans. It had been Dick who had helped Donna find out and make peace with her past and it had been Dick who had stood beside Donna at her wedding, taking the traditional role of father and giving away the blushing and happy bride. Diana remembered that day vividly, the radiance that had emanated from Donna, and her pleasure that Dick had been so proud to be given the honor of handing Donna off to her future husband.

With a sigh, she remembered that things were different now, that Donna was no longer a happily married woman, in love with her husband and looking forward to all that the future held. For Donna, there was no future now. Diana bit her lip to keep from crying once again tonight; knowing that this time, there would be no Dark Knight in the shadows to hold her while she shed her tears.

Straightening her shoulders, she looked over at the son of the man she loved and couldn't resist making a human connection. Reaching out a hand, she placed it gently on his shoulder, meeting his eyes as the first rays of sunlight found their way onto the courtyard of the embassy.

"I love her too, you know," she said almost casually, not wanting to frighten off the young man with avowals of love and the deepness of the emotions that filled her at the mere thought of her sister. "I'm not sure I ever realized how much a part of me she is until today, until I saw the people that gathered here today to celebrate her life and mourn her loss."

They sat together in silence for a few moments, neither wanting to fill the void with words, both lost in their own memories of the woman that had meant so much to each of them. Diana, for her part, realized that Dick had come here tonight hoping for absolution from the grief that he carried around in his heart, from believing himself at least partially responsible for Donna's death. Diana herself had carried that burden, but found it stripped from her soul by the tender embrace of a man she now realized understood her very well, her emotions, her feelings, even her actions.

And now, here she sat with his son, that same guilt running through his system. She could see it written on his face and wondered how she would release him of it. And then she realized that he didn't need the words – he simply needed her presence, he needed Diana to turn to him and not away from him, believing him to be guilty of not saving her sister.

Like his father, he wouldn't trust the simplicity of words.

With a soft smile, she looked at him and asked, "Did Donna ever tell you about the time that she and I tried to make French toast?"

Confused for a moment by the change of subject, he just looked at her. Then, the memory hit him and he smiled for the first time that evening. "If you mean the 'unmitigated breakfast disaster that we will never speak of again', then yes, I remember her telling me about that."

Diana smiled at the memory of the kitchen of their apartment covered in egg drippings and the smell of burnt toast that had lingered in the room for days afterwards. After she and Donna had realized that they simply weren't going to become great chefs overnight, they'd laughed uproariously and then cleaned up the kitchen, giggling all the while.

Not wanting to bring down the slightly genial mood that now gripped Nightwing, she instead turned to him, removing her hand and instead letting it rest in her lap. A little unsure of herself, she looked over at him and said softly, "I'm in love with your father."

"Bruce?" he goggled at her. "I just thought…" he trailed off, running a hand over his hair and wondering if something had gotten into the water at the embassy today.

"I thought you should know."

His guilt lessening in the face of Diana's ease and acceptance of his presence, he said in an incredulous voice, "Hope you're prepared for an uphill battle."

"I am," she said with a small smile, almost feral in nature, the light of battle in her eyes as she glanced over at the shadows where he had disappeared.

Again, silence reigned in the early morning air for long moments. Finally, she heard Nightwing whisper, "Thank you," and once again, one of the Bat-clan left her for the shadows.

**_To be continued…with a Knight's return…_**

**_Please review! Did you like my visitor? (smiles) Not sure how well I did with him…But you have to admit, I tried!_**

**_And as for the memory of Diana's - Never happened. But I liked it. Did you?_**

_To Reviewer **Lauren** – Thank you! I give you more! It is interesting to see how the superhero community handles death and if it at all differs from the way that everyday people handle death. And I think that there are certain common threads between both groups of people. I hope you enjoy this chapter as well._

_To Reviewer **T** – Fifth guess: Iceland. No clue. You'd better tell me now! I don't know why New Zealand. I think I had Lord of the Rings on the brain. Yum, Aragorn. I love our witty banter back and forth, although I'm not always sure that I'm actually witty. Depends what mood you catch me in. hehe. I'm glad you liked the last chapter and hopefully you enjoyed this one as well! _

_To Reviewer **Dihcar** – Nope, not Superman! Hope you didn't mind who it actually was. I like a brave and bold Diana and I felt like that fit in this case. She's already heartbroken over her sister and she can sense that Bruce has feelings for her. So, the worst he could do would be to push her aside. You know, be Bruce. Thanks for the review!_


	6. Patience

**Title: Patience**

**Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics or any of their characters.**

**Un-betaed version. If you notice any mistakes, please email or pm me. Thanks.**

**Thank you for all the reviews and I hope you continue to enjoy this story as it goes along!**

"_All we need is just a little patience"– Guns 'n' Roses_

He wondered what lay so heavy on her mind, what memories were racing through her eyes and her heart as she stared so quietly out the window. They had come to know one another so well, come to grow so much closer as the days had gone by and what had for so lay between them had grown and flowered.

There were moments where he was still surprised that this woman had found her way so deeply into his heart and into his life, that things had changed so fundamentally between them. He had always known that she was important to his way of life, but now, she was also important to his life.

Looking back at that pivotal time in their coming together, he realized that it had been fear that had made him want to walk away from Diana and now, where that fear had been, there was only a sense of peace that had long been absent from his life. And when she touched his face in a caressing gesture he'd long ago grown accustomed to, a small part of him relaxed, warmed by the tough. Gazing into those blue eyes as they looked deep into his own, he smiled.

_Flashback_

Again, silence reigned in the early morning air for long moments. Finally, she heard Nightwing whisper, "Thank you," and once again, one of the Bat-clan left her for the shadows.

And for minutes, she stayed exactly where she was, sitting on that cold bench as the rays of sunlight burst over the courtyard, reminding her that grief was not just something for the darkness and the shadows, but for the daylight as well. But, she also knew that with each of these dawns, each burst of sunlight filling the embassy with light, that her grief would lessen and the ache in her heart would ease.

Donna would always be there, always be with her, but the sadness that plagued Diana today would diminish and in time, she would remember only happier days that the two of them had spent together. It was the way that the world worked, she knew, to lighten the burden of grief with love and happiness, after a fashion.

Today, she had mourned. Tomorrow, she would have her memories.

With a last glance at the walls of the courtyard, the formerly shadowy depths that had allowed the two members of the Bat-clan to leave in silence, the land around her now filling with sunlight, Diana decided to again find comfort in her bed, in the sleep that she had lost herself in earlier.

Slowly standing, she swept the courtyard with a last glance before walking back into the embassy, her hand trailing along the staircase railing as she thought about all that had passed this evening, all that had been said and done in the dark hours after the funeral of her sister. She had alleviated the guilt of a friend, found comfort in the arms of a man she now knew was a part of her heart, and helped ease the suffering of one of Donna's closest friends.

All in all, a busy night, she mused. No wonder the claws of sleep were suddenly dragging at her, she thought, yawning as she made her way up the stairs. Reaching her room, she lay down on her bed, not bothering to remove any of her clothes, just smoothing her wealth of curly black hair back as she pressed her head to her pillow, eyes closing in repletion and weariness as the sunbeams soaked her room, never noticing the dark presence that lurked on the balcony just outside her windows, his eyes tenderly watching the Amazon princess, his mouth set in a firm line as he considered all that she had said to him this evening.

It had been a day of mourning and a night of discoveries. He wasn't sure which had been harder on him. The grief seemed not only a part of his job, but a part of his soul. Donna Troy, Troia, had not been those he counted among his friends, but her sister was one of the few other heroes that he had allowed himself to get close to, to feel the stirrings of trust and the beginnings of hope.

He had realized long ago that Diana was his hope. He did not believe that that particular emotion lurked within the depths of his body, but he had always known that Diana was a creature of hope, of light and faith, all things of which he had none.

They had fought side-by-side often, their friendship beginning with mutual respect on the battlefield and stemming from that admiration. Each of them was a true warrior, fighting for the protection of their people and the beliefs that each of them held. But while Diana held a belief that crime could eventually be erased from Earth, Bruce had no such hope. He believed only in himself and his knowledge that he would do anything in order to stop crime from affecting the lives of others as it had affected his own.

And now, he sat outside the window of one of the few people that had ever given him reason to believe that things could ultimately be different, with the kind of faith and hope that Diana held in such high esteem and believed so firmly in. They came at things from such different viewpoints, from different histories, and yet they seemed to compliment each other so well, each stubbornly fighting and trying to persevere in the fight against crime, against violence and corruption.

He watched her there in her room, her blue eyes closed to him in sleep, her masses of curly locks drifting across the whiteness of the pillow. She looked at peace, content, and he almost couldn't equate this woman with the same who had, only hours ago, boldly told him that she had feelings for him that she wished to be returned. She had kissed him in the moonlight and looked at him with her heart in his eyes.

And for once in his life, he was confused about what to do. He knew that if he let himself, that he would develop feelings for Diana, that those feelings would grow over time and he wasn't entirely sure if he could handle that. But he also knew that he could shun those feelings and spurn her, that he could return to the darkness and cast her and the possibility of love aside, just as he had done so many times before.

But there was something about Diana that was different. She fed his soul, fed the possibility of hope that lurked deep inside him.

And he wasn't sure if that was for the best. He watched as she turned in her sleep, her face turning away from him. He studied the lines of her body, the wealth of curves and the strength that was there under the grace and femininity. Some called her the most beautiful woman in the world.

He, however, knew that to be fact. And it was more than the superficial beauty that stopped men in their tracks – it was something about Diana, that strength of hope and faith that transformed her into a being of beauty beyond which he could have ever imagined and had ever known.

Was what she had said true? Had she kissed him because of her feelings? Or had it simply been a gesture of comfort and need in the wake of her sister's death?

He wasn't sure that staring at her would provide him the answers and yet, he seemed unable to take a step away from her balcony, to retreat back into the shadows and away from her beauty that called to him.

He wasn't sure how to answer her, only knew surprise at the fact that he hadn't immediately turned away from her. Still hadn't, in fact. How was one to handle a woman like Diana? He knew that she possessed a will similar to his own: indomitable, and that she would continue to talk of her feelings for him without shame, without reserve, if indeed, she did care for him as she'd said tonight.

But a part of him was still leery, still wondering if he could ever trust not only those feelings, but himself. She was his embodiment of hope and he wondered what a relationship between them would do to that, to himself, and ultimately to her as well.

And a part of him believed her, believed in her feelings for him. Diana had never been one for lies or deceptions. As a former goddess of truth, he wasn't sure that Diana could even understand the word deception as he knew it, the cold and biting truth of that word and how it affected his life as Batman.

And that scared him, her feelings for him, scared him that there was even a kernel of truth in her words. Diana believed in hope and expectations and he couldn't possibly live up to that, couldn't possibly give her what she needed, be the person she would expect him to be: a person like herself.

Of all people in his life, he couldn't fail her. He couldn't put disappointment into those eyes, watch her effervescent smile fade when he failed once just as he had once failed his parents, failed Dick, failed Jason, failed himself. They came from different methods, different worlds, and he wasn't sure that they could ever mesh the two of them, that they could forge a life together from what they had now, separately, him in Gotham, and her everywhere someone needed her.

It was her faith that made her Wonder Woman.

And it was her faith that led him to indecision, to standing there on a balcony, simultaneously wanting to go to her, to join her as she slumbered, and wanting to return to Gotham, to the darkness and shadows that were such an integral part of his life.

So, mind tumbling with thoughts and oddly wracked with indecision, he stood where he was, watching her sleep as the sun made its way through the sky.

**_To be continued…A Breakfast Conversation…_**

**_Please review! I'm not sure about this chapter! Any suggestions for future chapters?_**

_To Reviewer **Lauren** – I personally think that Nightwing is a lot like his adopter father whether he chooses to believe that or not. He's just more personable. And I think that Nightwing needed someone to talk to and who better than Diana? Who else has been closer to Donna than Diana and Dick? Thanks for the review!_

_To Reviewer **T** – So, where are you from? The best answer I can give you about the Titans is to go to wikipedia and look them up as Teen Titans. But the short answer is to tell you that there's also a comic called Teen Titans and mostly, through the years, they've consisted of the sidekicks of the adult heroes. So Nightwing (Former Robin), Troia (Former Wonder Girl), Arsenal (Former Speedy), Tempest (Former Aqualad), Kid Flash (now the Flash), and others among their ranks. Today, the group has people in it that aren't originally sidekicks either, like Starfire, Cyborg, and many others. It's, in some ways, like a younger Justice League. Hopefully that helps you understand that a little better. I'm glad that you liked the chapter, even if it was a little different. It was still emotional, just different emotions. Dick needed Diana to absolve him and Batman simply needed an escape so he could think about what had just passed between him and Diana. So I hope that interesting is good and thanks!_


	7. The World I Know

**Title: The World I Know**

**Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics or any of their characters.**

**Un-betaed version. If you notice any mistakes, please email or pm me. Thanks.**

**In answer to a previous question, there will be at least 14 or 15 chapters to this story. I finally managed to hash out a plot for it! Enjoy and thanks for the reviews!**

"_So I walk up on high, and I step to the edge, to see my world below, and I laugh to myself, as the tears roll down, cause it's the world I know, it's the world I know…"– Collective Soul_

_Flashback_

It was her faith that made her Wonder Woman.

And it was her faith that led him to indecision, to standing there on a balcony, simultaneously wanting to go to her, to join her as she slumbered, and wanting to return to Gotham, to the darkness and shadows that were such an integral part of his life.

So, mind tumbling with thoughts and oddly wracked with indecision, he stood where he was, watching her sleep as the sun made its way through the sky.

For the next hour, as the sun blazed its trail through the sky, illuminating Earth and bringing him out of the shadows, but not off her balcony, he wondered why he was still here, why there was still no decision yet reached within the confines of his mind. He was as yet undecided, unsure, and a part of him ached at the thought of making this decision, of the possibilities that could be ahead with Diana at his side and at the possibility of turning her away, of pushing away the feelings that she brought forth in him so easily.

She was like no other woman he had ever known – a pacifist warrior who often had to use her fists in order to pursue the trust and love that she wanted this world to understand and know. But she also spoke out about understanding and the faith that she carried so strongly in her heart. In some ways, she was like Kent in that way, using her image and her face in the public, in the media, in order to talk about her ideals and her ideas for peace.

He, on the other hand, was purely a figure of the shadows and the darkness. At least, as Batman. While as Bruce Wayne, he had done a number of charity events and donated more dollars than he could count towards various enterprises and groups, even hosted balls and assorted occasions to raise money and awareness.

But as Batman, he preferred a deeper, darker raising of awareness, an awareness in the criminal element of the horror and judgment he could unleash, if provoked. He wasn't a man of faith and goodness and he wasn't sure that he ever could be. A part of him also realized that sometimes those traits were needed just as much as Diana's, that others turned to him in order to do the work that they could not do, the threatening and doling out the harsh punishments that others could not do.

He sometimes felt as though he lived in a different world that the rest of the heroes of Earth, that few, if any, could truly understand the horrors of Gotham and the past that he had faced in order to make him Batman. But he had worked with Diana before and he knew that she, probably more than any other he had partnered with in the past, knew what he was about and what he was capable of.

Although, he would probably never refer to it in her presence as a partnership. Batman simply wasn't known for that kind of terminology or that kind of attitude.

But, watching her sleep, a part of him longed for a certain partnership that could spring up between himself and Diana, one that could involve happiness, that emotion that had eluded him for so long now. He could see it – the mornings spent sleeping in bed, wrapped in each other; working side by side in order to conquer a foe and further their missions; the quiet moments at home in the Manor with Alfred for company and maybe even the possibility of little ones underfoot.

His heart filled with longing and his hands clenched in fear. A piece of him wasn't sure that he was ready or even destined for happiness, if one believed in such things. He was the last of a house long broken by murder and the corruption of others.

And he wasn't sure that, in the end, he would be the one who could pick up the pieces and once again forge The Wayne name and the legacy of his family.

He wasn't sure if he was worried that he would have to and couldn't, or that he would try and ultimately fail. It hurt him to admit that he was cowardly inside, but failure wasn't an option. Not to him, not to Bruce or to Batman.

Hunching into the corner of the balcony, he placed his curled fist against the sheen of glass that separated him from Diana's room. Closing his eyes, he wondered if he had the strength to choose, the strength to decide which direction to go in – towards this woman or away from her. Opening his eyes again, he saw the woman asleep in the bed, beautiful as any dream, and then looked down at himself, at the cape that streamed along the balcony floor, at the gloves that shielded his hands, felt the coolness of the cowl against his face, and he realized he had no choice.

He was the Batman. He would always be the Batman. There was no other choice for him.

Glancing up, he saw the patient, laughing face of the Amazon Princess looking at him through the balcony windows, crouched down, her fingers nestled against his, only cold glass in between the two hands. And the look, the semblance of a touch, broke his heart, but somehow eased his mind.

Taking his hand away from the glass, he hid his fist within the fold of the cape and, glancing at the smiling blue eyes of Diana, stood, wrapping cape around himself and cloaking himself in his dignity and quiet reserve.

Wondering if him quietness was a result of embarrassment at being caught outside her room or because he had come to inform her that he still didn't believe her, Diana didn't know. But she didn't know that nothing would come of him standing outside when he could be standing inside, with her, instead of staring at her through a pane of glass.

Pulling open the sliding door, she asked softly, "Would you like to come in, Bruce?"

He sent her a chiding chance, as if irritated that she had used his name out in the open, no matter that no one else was around and that her tone was so low few would hear it anyway. Still, without further hesitation, he entered the bedroom of the Amazon Princess, striding past her where she stood, garbed in a white linen shift, her dark hair flowing down her back in a curly mass.

"Care for some breakfast?" Diana asked him as she walked to her closet and threw on a long cotton robe over the length of her nightgown. "I imagine you've had a long night and I can't promise much in the way of nourishment, but I make a mean omelet."

In fact, she thought to herself, it was about the only thing that she could manage to make for herself in the kitchen. Her cooking ability was decidedly lacking, but sometime during her stay in Man's World, she had learned that eggs were her specialty and that everyone needed to fend for themselves, at least a little bit, in the way of the culinary arts.

And so, omelets were Diana's dish.

Placing her feet into bunny slippers, she shuffled out to the hall, glancing back at Batman's startled expression.

"What?" she asked, laughing at how his face seemed to want to collapse in laughter, but somehow managed to hold himself back. "I'm entitled to one little oddity, right? Plus, they're so warm and comfortable, I just can't seem to get rid of them."

A part of him knew at that moment that no matter what passed between them this morning, no matter how hurt she might be and how disappointed he would be at turning her love away, he would always carry a little piece in his heart of the woman who spoke of justice and peace and wore bunny slippers around the house.

How did one resist someone like that?

But he would, at least on the outside.

Following her into the kitchen of the embassy, he wondered how this woman had managed to get him so entangled in her and the feelings she seemed to awaken in him. He watched as she opened the fridge and removed a carton of eggs and a handful of vegetables. She turned to the cutting board on the counter and began to chop and dice the onion and peppers and he idly wondered if turning down Wonder Woman while she was holding a sharp implement was perhaps not his best decision.

Still, he had to do it.

"Diana," he murmured, "I can't be who you need me to be."

Without turning, she continued to chop her vegetables in a rhythmic motion, almost as if she hadn't heard his words. But then she, in the midst of her chopping, returned quietly, "I'm not asking you to be anyone other than who you are, Bruce."

He ignored her words. Perhaps she wasn't asking him aloud if he would follow her mission, if he would give up the darkness and turn to the light, but she would, eventually, she'd want him to. And he couldn't do it. He couldn't give up the part of him that was Batman alone, that was vengeance and the night, no matter how much he longed for this vision of loveliness to be in his life.

He was darkness personified and he couldn't make it in her world. And he didn't want her to become a part of his, to drag her down into the despair and grit that was Gotham.

"I can't do it, Diana, I can't be someone else."

She finally turned to look at him, nothing but calmness and a quiet understanding in her eyes. "I fell in love with who you are, Bruce, not someone else. I don't want you to change."

"You will," he murmured, assured in that if nothing else.

"I know you, Bruce. And I know that you will believe whatever you want to believe, regardless of what I tell you." She left her vegetables lying on the cutting board, half chopped, to come over to him and run a finger down his face, wishing that she could see his eyes as she made her stand, here, in the kitchen. Cupping his chin, she reached up and gently, softly slid her lips along his in a tender kiss that bespoke of her love and everything other emotion that she felt for him.

"I love you, Bruce," she stated quietly, all the more effective for her assurance and ease in saying it. He wanted to give in, but he knew that he had already made his decision and there was no turning back. She continued and he could see a hint of resignation in her eyes, but also the wealth of emotions that had filled her kiss.

"It's a gift, Bruce, something you can choose whether or not to accept. It will always be there and I can promise you only that it won't lessen, but deepen with time, with every meeting of our eyes, every time we pair up on a mission, every beat of my heart and thought of you."

"I'm not a fickle woman, Bruce," she murmured, gently caressing the stubbly skin of his face uncovered by the cowl. Releasing him, she turned again to her vegetables, continuing the chopping motion as she again considered what a challenge she'd made for herself in loving this man.

"And in time, perhaps you can accept my gift…" and before she even finished the sentence, she knew that he was gone and that part of her heart had gone with him.

**_Next chapter: Please Remember Me – Diana "talks" to Donna…_**

**_Please review! _**

**_Even with the alerts down, I'm watching the stats like a hawk, so help me out!_**

_To Reviewer **Lauren** – You're right – a knight does need his princess! And I think that eventually he will be able to get in touch with and express his feelings. But he's still the Bat and that could take awhile. So I hope you enjoy it!_

_To Reviewer **T** – A kiwi, huh? See, I was so close! I knew my Lord of the Rings moment was onto something. Sounds like you've lived all over though – that has to be really interesting. I would love to get to Scotland one of these days. And I imagine Singapore is an intriguing place as well._

_The Titans changed around quite a bit during the course of the comic. Of course, so does everything else. It's like one giant soap opera! Donna's sister, Donna, is a perfect example. She lives, she dies, she comes back again. It's a little weird! I never actually watched the cartoon for the Titans, but perhaps I'll get to it one of these days. Better fighting scenes? Hmmm, then I'll definitely have to watch. I love that stuff too! I'm glad that you liked it and I did manage to come up with a plot all on my own! Yay!_

_Oh, and for the Like Angels story, you did almost get the songs right. For the Depeche Mode song, you gave me the album instead of the song, but I think that's close enough! So if you want a one-shot, just let me know! _


	8. Please Remember Me

**Title: Please Remember Me**

**Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics or any of their characters.**

**Un-betaed version. If you notice any mistakes, please email or pm me. Thanks.**

**In answer to a previous question, there will be at least 14 or 15 chapters to this story. But it might be shorter. Depends on my mood! Enjoy!**

**Kind of a short one. Sorry 'bout that.**

"_When all our tears have reached the sea, a part of you will live in me" – Tim McGraw_

_Flashback_

In the weeks that followed Donna's death, Diana found herself at peace, self-assured, as if her soul was filled with Donna's spirit. No matter that she refused to see her sister as gone. Logically, she knew that Donna had died, that the eye beams of the Superman robot had lanced through her chest, killing her instantly; that Donna had been welcomed into the realm of the afterlife with open arms.

But still, there was a part of Diana that simply couldn't accept the death of her sister, some feeling lodged deep in the recesses of her heart that recognized Donna's soul as alive.

And today, she was going to celebrate and embrace that soul, that spirit, by visiting the memorial they had erected in her honor.

There were so many things she wanted to say, so many words teasing her lips and burning her tongue as she gazed up at the image of her little sister, cast in marble with the loving expression that had so often graced Donna's face. In the end, all she could do was whisper, "I miss you."

Her eyes filled to the brim with tears, but she valiantly managed to stifle the sobs that rose in her throat. She leaned forward, pressing her forehead to the cold stone and pondering how much her life had changed since that fateful day when her sister had been taken from her. It had been in the first days after that Diana had realized that her heart lay in the hands of the Dark Knight.

Hands, she now knew, that weren't ready to accept the gift she had willing to bestow upon them.

Hands, she now considered, that might never be able to take what she was offering and appreciate the gift of her love.

It hadn't yet waned, hadn't only grown since the moments she had revealed to him that she cared so deeply. They had seen each other at odd moments during missions, at meetings, passing by one another in the hallway, but there had been no time to talk, no discussions between them of feelings or even of anything insignificant.

And yet, each of those fleeting meetings, those moments, had simply made her more secure, more confident in her feelings, in the knowledge that she did indeed care for this man, despite all of his obvious failings. She knew that he had them, even if he didn't understand that she didn't see him as perfect. Who could? He was a creature of the night who thrived on darkness and shadows, was often brusque and harsh to the point of brutality, and was scared of the slightest emotional commitment.

But there were other things to him that she loved – his unstinting need to protect his family and his city, anyone whom he loved, the way that tried to blend in with the shadows and yet never hesitated to lead, to help others along the path of the vigilante and the hero, the fact that he had known that she would need him after Donna's death, after her memorial service had commenced, and he had been the one man in whose arms she felt secure enough to release her feelings, to let fly the tears and the anguish that she had been hiding throughout the day.

He had been the only man to hold her, the only man to understand, and the only one she had let see her tears, her guilt, her recriminations.

He didn't understand that by changing him, she would change that part of him, that part of him that she cared so deeply for, the part that had made her fall in love with a cranky man who dressed in a bat-suit.

She let out a hiccupping laugh at that thought. What would Donna think of Batman, of Bruce? He was a difficult man to get close to, a difficult man to understand, but surprisingly, not a difficult man to love.

Just a difficult man to let love into his life, in the outward sense. He had no problems loving his city, loving the memory of his parents, even if it would take superhuman strength to pull either of those feelings from him. Bruce simply wasn't one to air his emotions, to let them guide him in his decisions and in the majority of his life. His cause, his mission, was one that stemmed from past emotions, and that had shunted him, that mission, made him focus on the analytical and the logical in order to protect himself, to keep himself alive as he sought to save for others what he himself had lost.

"Donna," she murmured, "What have I gotten myself into?" It had been, thus far in the lack of a relationship between her and Bruce, just as Nightwing had mentioned to her that night so many months ago, when he'd told her that loving Bruce was an uphill battle.

Still, Diana had yet to back away from a challenge and a man in a Bat-suit who had issues certainly posed one in this respect. Even if she didn't manage to wear him down in time, he would always have a piece of her heart, and she would always carry him in hers.

She wasn't uncomfortable or displeased with that idea simply because it was a fact. He was too strong of a person for her to simply move on and forget about him. After all, they worked together where she saw his strength on a regular basis – his mental strength, his physical prowess, and the confidence that he wore around him more visibly than his cloak.

It simply wasn't possible to just push a man like that out of a heart.

"I think that you'd like him, Donna," Diana said softly, pushing her curls behind her shoulder and removing her head from the cold stone of her sister's memorial. She instead moved to the ground, taking up residence on the ground beside the statue, where she couldn't see the light that was missing from her sister's smiling visage, but could feel the energy and the warmth that emanated from the spot, from the memories that enveloped her as she sat in the darkness, talking to Donna in her own fashion.

"He comes across as gruff and uncaring, but if you wait long enough, if you look hard enough, you can see that he's the first of us to really care about anything and anyone, even if he can't see that in himself. He transformed his life into protecting Gotham, into giving others the sense of security and hope that he lacks."

She sat on the ground, dry eyed now, hand on her chin as she considered the man that she had given her heart to, even knowing that it was a potential heartache in the making.

"I couldn't help myself, Donna. I still can't. He was there for me. Looking back, it seems that he was always there for me and I can't forget that. I won't forget that."

"When you died," Diana said softly, reaching out her fingers to touch that cold stone that embodied her sister, "I lost a part of myself. I found another part of myself in him."

"I wish that you were here, Donna, smiling at me, telling me the latest gossip. I wish that I could tell you face to face about Batman, Donna, about Bruce. I just wish that you were here…"

She trailed off, a rain of teardrops falling from her eyes as it hit her once again that her beloved sister was gone, that things were never going to be the same and that no one could make it better, make all the suffering go away.

But, she supposed, that's what she was fighting for in Man's World, to make the suffering of others go away. It just meant that she had to suffer alongside them. Wiping her cheeks, she stood, placing a hand on the cold cheek of her sister and smiling gently at the cheery statue that was Donna Troy.

"I love you, Donna. And I love him. I just have to convince him of that."

And, her words echoing in her own mind, she decided to do just that.

**_Next chapter: Can't We Try – Diana tries to convince Batman to at least try a relationship with her…_**

**_Please review! _**

_Welcome, new reviewers and thanks!_


	9. Can't We Try

**Title: Can't We Try**

**Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics or any of their characters.**

**Un-betaed version. If you notice any mistakes, please email or pm me. Thanks.**

"_Can't we try just a little bit harder, Can't we try just a little bit more, Can't we try to understand that it's love we're fighting for…" – Vonda Sheppard and Dan Hill_

She turned away from his slight smile, turning again to gaze out of the window, lost in memories as they whirled through her mind. A hand came to rest on her shoulder and she could feel the warmth seep into her skin, into her heart. It had been that night that had set things into motion once again, Diana thought, reaching up to her shoulder and laying her hand atop the gauntleted fingers of the Dark Knight. That night, there at Donna's memorial, sitting in the moonlight with tears welling and thoughts clear and focused, that night had brought about what she had now, had brought about the romantic entanglement that her life faced, one that she wouldn't give up and was only now truly beginning to appreciate and understand completely.

In many ways, she and Bruce were two of a kind, each bent on a mission, each with flaws and faiths that made them work hard and challenge themselves everyday. While Batman's only faith was in himself, in what he could do and train for, Diana's faith was rooted in her hope and her trust that eventually her dream of peace would come to fruition.

They came at things in different ways, she mused, but each of them only wanted one thing in the end – peace, a world without strife and chaos where people could walk in the darkness and the sunlight in security; no crime, no want, no inequalities – a better world.

She knew that they would never resolve their differences as that would make them different people, that to change Batman would mean that her love too would change, possibly even falter. She loved him because of his strength in the darkness, his never ending quest for retribution and peace, and the way that he puzzled through everything, eventually finding the solution to a problem using his wits instead of his muscle.

He had once tried reasoning through love, tried to escape the ties that now bound them so tightly together. But, she thought to herself, with a little perseverance on her part, she had overcome his fear steadily but surely, showing him what life could entail with her at his side, with her in his heart without trepidation, without fear. And they'd found this.

_Flashback_

Wiping her cheeks, she stood, placing a hand on the cold cheek of her sister and smiling gently at the cheery statue that was Donna Troy.

"I love you, Donna. And I love him. I just have to convince him of that."

And, her words echoing in her own mind, she decided to do just that. She rose from the grass, brushing dirt from her legs and tears from her eyes, and stood for a moment, letting the moonlight wash over her as she looked back at the visage of her sister. "Come back," she whispered, "I need you."

She trailed a hand over the cold marble and turned away, striding off into the darkness of the night before taking to the air and heading for the city of Gotham.

Once in the air, she looked down at the glistening skyline as she neared Batman's city. He was in for a surprise, she decided, but, knowing him, he wouldn't take too kindly on the fact that she'd dropped in for a visit. It seemed that no matter what the circumstances, Bruce simply didn't appreciate her or most of the others in the League visiting or helping out in his city. He would see it as charity if she stopped to help, and his pride was too built up to allow that. He wanted to be able to show all the criminals of Gotham that he could stop them on his own no matter the circumstances.

Of course, she'd had to step in to help once or two, depending on who had decided to take up residence within the annals of Gotham and he hadn't always resisted her help so profusely. But things had changed between them in the last few months and she knew that setting down in the streets of Gotham and asking Bruce for a date would not be the way to get the stubborn mule of a man to open his heart.

She had another plan entirely.

As she neared Gotham, she veered off towards the oceans, watching the silent, dark rolls of the waves as they lapped the shores and marveled at how, even at night, Wayne Manor was a thing to behold. The architecture dominated the landscape and the grounds were extensive and well-kept. The sight was utterly impressive and she was going to crash it. In a manner of speaking, of course. She came to a stop on the cliffs behind the mansion, staring out at the expanse of the mansion, hearing the waves behind her, knowing that Alfred and whomever else was inside had probably already been alerted to her presence on the grounds.

And so, she boldly strode up to the front door, tapping the front door with her fist and waiting almost impatiently for a result. She was no longer willing to wait for Bruce to come to his senses; she was going to take matters into her own capable hands. She had dealt with stubborn men before and had no illusions about the fact that she would do so again.

It was time for stubborn to meet faithful and persevering in the guise of Wonder Woman.

Gaea help him, she thought to herself as she heard the muted sound of foot falls coming towards her from the other side of the door. As it was opened, she gazed, a hint of a smile on her face, at the elderly and bemused face of Alfred Pennyworth, butler to Bruce Wayne.

"Good evening, Alfred," she stated calmly as if she dropped in on Wayne Manor nightly. "Do you mind if I come in?"

"Of course not, Princess, although I regret to inform you that it may be some time until Master Bruce is…unoccupied," he told her as he opened the door wider and gestured for her to come inside. Stepping inside, she glanced around at the antiques that were casually displayed around the house, the air of elegance filled the house along with the scent of lemon oil.

Noticing that Alfred was obviously not dressed for company in a housecoat, loafers, and striped pajama pants, she wondered if he was used to odd comings and goings from the front door of the mansion rather than just the cave. Feeling slightly guilty for interrupting the household at such a late hour, but still intent on confronting him once he returned from patrol, she smiled softly at Alfred and asked, "Would you mind if I waited for him?"

"Of course not, Princess," he murmured, his accent audible in every word. "Please make yourself at home."

He gestured to one of the side rooms and solicitously took her arm, leading her into the manly decorated area and towards one of the sandy colored leather couches that lined the room. She took a seat, looking around at the book lined shelves and the stone fireplace that dominated one wall. The entire room was utterly inviting and she knew that she'd had no problem finding something to keep her busy until Bruce returned home.

"Would you care for a cup of tea, Princess?" Alfred graciously questioned. "It would be no problem at all."

"No thank you, Alfred," she answered, "I think I'll just make myself comfortable with a book until Bruce returns." As the older man excused himself, she wondered how it was that Bruce had been raised by such a man and yet knew, or at least, exercised so little of his manners. She supposed he reserved that for his public persona, but she was more interested in Bruce himself rather than the playboy or even the caped figure currently striking fear into the heart of the criminals of Gotham.

He was a combination of all of those men, all those things, and while she would freely admit that she had fallen in love first with the cape and cowl, the others had followed swiftly. She loved the public persona for his dedication to public good through charity and his business, loved the caped man for his need to protect his city, and loved Bruce himself because of his heart. No matter how hard he tried to hide it, the man had a pulse and a heart that beat for Gotham and for saving those around him…and possibly even himself in the course of things.

Before stretching out on the couch, she plucked a book from the shelves, one of the leather lined tomes that detailed the history of Gotham, and settled down to while away the hours until Bruce returned.

Diana was surprised when, within the hour, she heard footsteps in the house and recognized the tired figure of Bruce Wayne walking the corridors. Standing in the doorway, she watched him stifle a yawn and wondered how he managed to do this night after night, how he could maintain himself and his high level of performance, wondered what sacrifices he had made to his body. She already knew what sacrifices he had made to his life – he had forsaken love. But she meant to teach him that love came in many forms and that her love would support him and his cause rather than cause him to forsake them.

Taking a step forward, she watched as he turned to face her, almost but not quite covering his surprise at seeing her in his home in the dead of night.

"Diana?" he murmured, rubbing a hand over his eyes in a gesture that bespoke of his tiredness, one that she knew that he would almost never commit in front of anyone other than herself. Bruce had never been one to show weakness, but it touched her that he would show even the tiniest bit of a fault in front of her.

"How was patrol?" she asked quietly, not moving from her perch in the doorway.

"Two robberies, a mugging, but overall, a rather quiet night by Gotham standards," he returned, striding toward her with short steps, the exhaustion still in the lines of his face, but he was obviously still alert enough to wonder what she was doing here in the middle of the night. And she was more than willing to take advantage of his sleepiness, hoping that it would let her take him unawares when she asked him to try, just once, to be with her.

"What are you doing here, Princess?" he asked in that tone that never failed to set her back up. But this time, she refused to let him get away with irritating her.

"I came to ask you a question, Bruce," she stated. "I came to ask you to try."

His eyes narrowed, but he remained silent. She took this as a sign to continue and decided to do so before he awoke fully and kicked her out of his house and out of Gotham.

"I've told you that I love you, Bruce, and I will not recant that statement now." She watched as he flinched at the word love, eyes immediately falling to the floor and hands running in a nervous gesture through his hair. A part of her froze at the sight, but she knew that now was not the time to turn back but proceed forward, to convince Bruce that she, that they, deserved a chance.

"I am not going to back away from you, from what I feel for you, because I believe that it's something worth fighting for." Her words were all the more devastating to his stance against emotional entanglements for their quiet strength. She had prepared while he had been out that night and Diana knew that if she could present Bruce with a rational argument, he would at least listen. That was all she wanted: an opening.

Walking to him, she cupped his face in her palms and murmured, "You're worth fighting for, Bruce." Deciding that a little action wouldn't necessarily hurt her cause, she pressed her lips gently to his, letting them clung for a few seconds before pulling away and staring into his tired eyes, happy to find them filled with a combination of lust and contentment, the latter of which she knew was rare in his life.

"Just try, Bruce. I'm asking for one date, one night where we can be together – no pretenses, no costumes, no fears, just a chance for love."

She saw him close his eyes and wondered if he would reject her words or embrace them. And then he gazed into the oceanic blue of her eyes and whispered, "One, Princess. That's all I can promise."

With a ragged sigh of happiness that echoed the satisfaction racing through her blood, she leaned her forehead against his, and, keeping her eyes on his, murmured, "I don't need promises. I just need a chance."

**_Next chapter: Take A Chance On Me – A Bats/Wondy date…_**

_**So, what do you think so far? What do you think will happen on the date? What will happen after that?**_

_To Reviewer** SSJO4 Mewtwo – **Don't worry, lately the members haven't been getting alerts either! You're right, if she tied him up and used the lasso, that would definitely make the story M rated and while I may eventually go there, not just yet! I'm not sure what the average age of my readers are…would definitely be interesting to know! But I'm not too worried – those who aren't ready for sexy lasso use will be warned if I ever go there! So, behave yourself! I'm glad that you like this story though!_

_To Reviewer **T** – I would imagine that if someone was a part of your soul, there would have to be an amazing bond between the two of you, just like there is between Diana and Donna. And of course there's a connection between Bruce and Diana. I'm writing this, remember? Heh. I just love showcasing that connection and hopefully this chapter did so as well! Thanks!_


	10. Take a Chance On Me

**Title: Take a Chance on Me**

**Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics or any of their characters.**

**Un-betaed version. If you notice any mistakes, please email or pm me. Thanks.**

**5 more chapters to go! Thanks for all the reviews and the support!**

"_Take a chance on me; Gonna do my very best and it ain't no lie; If you put me to the test, if you let me try" - ABBA_

He had once tried reasoning through love, tried to escape the ties that now bound them so tightly together. But with a little perseverance on her part, she had overcome his fear steadily but surely, showing him what life could entail with her at his side, with her in his heart without trepidation, without fear. And they'd found this, together, and he knew now that he could never regret it, never regret what had been set in motion with Donna's death, their newfound closeness and the relationship that they had forged together.

He only regretted that it had taken the death of her beloved sister in order to bring them to this point, that it had been the loss of someone Diana loved so dearly that had served as the catalyst for them coming together. He knew that she still missed her, that sometimes she woke to a tearstained pillow, her dreams filled with memories of her sister and the bond that they'd shared, one not only rare but unlike any other he'd ever known. A part of him realized that she still did not believe that her sister was gone, but who was he to douse that wish of hers – he had felt that way in the past and somehow he knew that if anyone could make that sort of thing true, it was Diana. She had a faith steeped in the gods and her own beliefs – she continued to fight even when others deemed it hopeless.

Tightening his hand on her shoulder, he realized that it had been that perseverance of Diana's that had brought them together, that through all the stops and starts that their relationship had endured in order to come together as they were now, she had continued to believe in their rightness of loving him and had pressed towards that goal undaunted. It was one of her most endearing and most irritating traits, depending on what side of the goal she was working for that he was standing on.

Fortunately for him, in this, they finally seemed to be working together, the mutual cause being their relationship and all it brought into their lives – the fulfillment, the comfort, and the love. He had been surprised to find a love this deep in his own life, had always assumed he'd end up a bitter, lonely old man. He hadn't counted on the Amazon Princess and her determination to give him light in the shadows.

No matter how hard he had fought her…

_Flashback_

"Just try, Bruce. I'm asking for one date, one night where we can be together – no pretenses, no costumes, no fears, just a chance for love."

She saw him close his eyes and wondered if he would reject her words or embrace them. And then he gazed into the oceanic blue of her eyes and whispered, "One, Princess. That's all I can promise."

With a ragged sigh of happiness that echoed the satisfaction racing through her blood, she leaned her forehead against his, and, keeping her eyes on his, murmured, "I don't need promises. I just need a chance."

Her words echoed in her head as she arrived at Wayne Manor, the sun falling, the sky filled with a symphony of pinks and reds, and the beauty of the site buoyed her mood even further. She knew that she had accomplished a minor miracle by getting Bruce to agree to even just a date with her, but she also knew that she wasn't out of the woods just yet, that he could at any time tonight change his mind and send her off without even a goodbye.

He was that kind of man and she had no illusions about his faults and his feelings. While she knew that he cared for her, maybe even cared deeply, Bruce had never been one to openly show those feelings, any feelings for that matter. He was intrinsically an isolated being, one who relied first and foremost on himself and had a difficult time letting others not only into his heart but his life.

She could understand his hesitation; his was not a normal life. But then, by most standards, her life would not be considered either easy or normal either. She was many things to many people – an ambassador, a bringer of faith and truth, a fighter, and now she hoped, a lover. Caring so deeply for Bruce, she couldn't help but want to introduce him to the beauty in love, the goodness and comfort that it would bring to his life.

But, she knew, it would be slow going and a test of her patience and persistence. In the end though, she planned to make sure that she got what she wanted: him.

She had taken some care with her appearance tonight – a few extra combings of the brush, an extra moment to add some scented oils to her skin, even picking an outfit that she believed set off her eyes and skin, anything to use as an advantage. But she had also made sure that she still looked essentially like herself, just Diana, because she didn't want him making any comparisons to vapid socialites or pampered princesses. She was Wonder Woman and she had worked hard to maintain that title and her role here in Man's World.

Tonight, she seemed to glow from within, the effect of knowing that she was about to embark upon a date with a man for whom her feelings ran deep and true. Her black slacks were neat and pressed, her hair flowed down the length of her back in a mass of ebony curls, and her eyes sparkled, the shade matching the royal blue sweater that adorned her body, hugging her curves but still leaving much to the imagination.

Emerging from the car, she walked the few steps to the front door and found it immediately opened to Alfred's smiling face. His pleasure at her arrival seemed to tell she was not the only one who was happy that Bruce had invited her here tonight, had decided to give their relationship a chance, even if she had had to push him into issuing said invitation.

"Good evening, Princess," Alfred stated in his usual nonplussed and regal demeanor. "May I take your coat?"

She shrugged off her black, knee length jacket and Alfred was right there on hand to take it from off her back. He headed towards a coat rack and hung the jacket neatly before turning back to her, adding, "Please follow me, my dear."

With a smile, she gave him her arm and allowed him to wrap his fingers gingerly around her elbow, leading her towards one of the rooms just off the main corridor. Entering the room, she looked around at the exquisite tapestries decorating the wall, the fireplace was warm and crackling, and she could see Bruce seated across in a plush armchair that seemed to dominate even his superior form. He stood upon her entrance and came over to take her hand, raising it to his lips and brushing a soft, swift kiss across her knuckles in a manner that somehow came across as knightly and courtly without being irritating.

His eyes met hers as he looked up from his bowed position over her hand and he murmured, "Good evening, Princess." It was a statement that she wasn't exactly sure how to take, simply because it was murmured in Bruce's playboy voice and he had used the nickname that he knew irritated her.

Glancing back at Alfred, she saw the disapproval in the old man's voice at Bruce's use of his playboy persona and, rather than embarrass herself in front of Alfred, simply said, "Thank you, Alfred, I believe I can handle him from here." She added a smile and the older man gave her a hint of a smile in return, obviously believing that he was leaving his master in the proper hands to take care of his ingratiating attitude as he retreated out of the room.

Once she was satisfied that Alfred was far enough away, she turned back to Bruce. He still had a gentle grip on her hand and she left it there, gently stating, "Don't do this, Bruce."

"Do what, Princess?" he asked with a grin that bordered on the sardonic.

"I thought were you were going to give us a chance, Bruce. Instead, you're acting like this foppish character rather than the man I love." She tore her hand out of his grasp and ran her fingers through his hair, tousling the perfect locks and when his eyes met her own again, she leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, trying to remind him that she was different, that what was between them was different.

"I deserve better, Bruce, and so do you," she whispered firmly as she pulled back. She walked over to the fireplace, standing by the flames that hissed and spit, the warmth seeping into her bones, having no idea what the play of light and shadow from the hearth did to her beauty, making her seem more ethereal, a heavenly being come to tease Bruce's senses and his mind.

She glanced back at him, his expression having faded into something resembling guilt, or at the very least, remorse.

"Would you prefer I go?" she asked quietly, her face still bathed in the firelight and his heart still wondering how he would find the strength to decide whether to let her into his life or push her as far away as possible. The idea of her love, knowing that this creature of goodness and hope could love him, weakened him at the knees as no villain had ever done. She wouldn't be content with his foolish attempts to put her off, to pretend that her intelligence wouldn't let her realize that he was hiding behind his public persona.

And before he knew what he was doing, he strode over to her, joining her by the fireside and murmuring, "Stay." Up close, the lights and shadows still danced over her skin, but he could see that she was still the same loving and patience Diana that he had always known and not the heavenly creature he had from a distance thought of her as. She was beautiful, bold, and intelligent, characteristics that made him want to care for her, made him long to have her by his side.

And with nerves eating at his confidence, nerves that only she could instill in him, he took her arm and led her over to the couch in front of the fireplace. She walked by his side, and he could feel the warmth and heat that she generated, the softness of her skin underneath his hand. She made him feel so many things, so many confusing and arbitrary emotions, each different from the last – jealousy at the thought of her with anyone else, fear at the thought of how his life would change with her in it, anger at the nervousness she brought forth in him, and a quiet contentedness that he wasn't sure that he was ready to handle.

Taking a seat on the couch, she tucked one leg up onto the couch, bent at the knee, and turned to face Bruce, letting the other leg dangle to the floor. "Thank you for having me, Bruce, for giving us this chance."

He wasn't sure what to say to this, so in the end, he just said, staring at the hearth and the dancing flames within, "I can't make any promises, Diana."

She reached over and placed a hand on his, lacing her fingers in his and giving them a small squeeze. "I didn't ask for promises, Bruce, just a chance." And because the moment seemed right, she scooted a little closer to him, laying her head on his shoulder as they stared at the fire burning brightly together. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Hmm?" he murmured, too busy adjusting to the feel and the weight of Diana against his shoulder. She had nestled into the hollow between neck and shoulder as if she fit there, as if the spot had truly been made for her. He longed to run a hand down her hair, to see the curls tangle in his fingers, but he restrained himself, not wanting to ruin the moment. But second later, as if his hand had a mind of its own, he smoothed his hand down the length of her curls, letting his fingers twist in the curls, watching them stretch and bounce back as he pulled them just slightly.

Content with his administrations and with their togetherness in this moment, Diana continued softly, "The fire, it's so beautiful: the play of light and dark as they come together to create a thing of beauty. I wouldn't mind just sitting here and watching it for awhile."

And seconds later, when Alfred walked into the room to announce dinner, Bruce quietly and subtly shook his head at the butler, wanting a few more minutes alone with Diana in this setting, in this moment. The butler slowly backed out of the room and Bruce continued to play with Diana's hair as together, they watched the intense light of the flames and myriad of swiftly dancing shadows it created in silence, wrapped in each other and their togetherness.

**_Next chapter: Break My Stride – A Kiss and A Goodbye…_**

_To Reviewer** SSJO4 Mewtwo – **Yeah, Bruce's luck with dates isn't so good, so it could be that someone will interrupt the date. I know what's going to happen overall, but I haven't exactly decided how the date will end just yet. We'll see! Thanks for the review!_

_To Reviewer **T** – Thanks for the review! I hope you're enjoying your holiday time. I have the day off today and I will admit that it was very nice to sleep in a little and just hang out all day. Glad that you thought the last chapter was fantastic – I have the best time writing this story – something about Diana taking charge and literally pulling Bruce from the shadows that I really enjoy. I hope you like the date so far!_


	11. Break My Stride

**Title: Break My Stride**

**Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics or any of their characters.**

**Un-betaed version. If you notice any mistakes, please email or pm me. Thanks.**

**Thanks for all the reviews and the support!**

"_Ain't nothing gonna break my stride, nobody gonna slow me down…" – Matthew Wilder_

He had once tried reasoning through love, tried to escape the ties that now bound them so tightly together. But, she thought to herself, with a little perseverance on her part, she had overcome his fear steadily but surely, showing him what life could entail with her at his side, with her in his heart without trepidation, without fear. And they'd found this.

Granted it had taken the patience of Atlas on her part in order to finally capture the heart of the man known as the Dark Knight, but she felt that the ends justified the means, all in all. Feeling his hand tighten on her shoulder, she looked back at him, gifting him with a smile that gleamed luminously in the darkness that surrounded them. Outside the window lay the twinkling the stars, reminding her of that first date…

_Flashback_

Content with his administrations and with their togetherness in this moment, Diana continued softly, "The fire, it's so beautiful: the play of light and dark as they come together to create a thing of beauty. I wouldn't mind just sitting here and watching it for awhile."

And seconds later, when Alfred walked into the room to announce dinner, Bruce quietly and subtly shook his head at the butler, wanting a few more minutes alone with Diana in this setting, in this moment. The butler slowly backed out of the room and Bruce continued to play with Diana's hair as together, they watched the intense light of the flames and myriad of swiftly dancing shadows it created in silence, wrapped in each other and their togetherness.

The feel of the hard muscle pillowed beneath her cheek made Diana smile; the strength was somehow comforting without being overwhelming and she relished in the moment here with Bruce, idly relaxing for one in their lives and doing little more than enjoying their time together, a rare occurrence for each of them.

They each had their outside duties, she mused, their obligations to the world at large and to others. She had her work at the embassy, he his work at Wayne Enterprises and each of them were still involved regularly in the missions of the League. She didn't even begin to think about the countless hours that he spent in Gotham. In many ways, it seemed that the odds had been against them from the beginning – with Donna's death showing her the deepening feelings she possessed for the Dark Knight. But she knew that even though it had taken months to get them to this point, it was most definitely a step in the right direction.

Closing her eyes for a minute, she enjoyed the heat of the flames and of the body next to her, the feel of Bruce's hand stroking through her hair as they relaxed on the couch, tangled up in one another. She hadn't expected this, this ease of coming together, this gentle and emotional side of Bruce. She knew that there was a soft man buried beneath the hard, protective shell of the Bat, but Diana hadn't expected to find it tonight, in this setting, at this time.

Some surprises were sweet indeed.

Feeling his fingers tangling in the tips of her hair, she turned to him, eyes open, with a sweet smile on her face. And as their eyes met, fire dancing over their skin, they moved slowly closer together until finally their lips brushed one another, the kiss deepening until the fire roaring in the hearth was merely a spark in comparison with the blaze created between them. Tenderly, fingers, teeth, and tongues explored, all else forgotten as they came together, one hand gripped in her hair while she placed a hand on the nape of his neck, eagerly pulling him closer, their eagerness and the intimacy almost palpable.

After long minutes, their lips eased back and Bruce rested his head on the softness of Diana's hair, trying desperately to remember if he had ever had a kiss this passionately, this intense and yet so comfortable. Their coming together rivaled nothing he'd ever experienced before and something about that worried him, that perhaps this was the only woman capable of pulling him from the shadows and bringing him a bit of peace and happiness, things that had no part in his mission to protect Gotham.

The sounds of their heavy breath was soon punctured by the arrival of footsteps and a voice – Alfred's - signifying that dinner was prepared. As the butler left them to head back towards the kitchen, Bruce and Diana shared a glance of mutual frustration, lust, and a wish to return to the passion of just moments ago.

But as the smell wafting from the nearby rooms hit her nostrils, Diana smiled softly, deciding that perhaps dinner would relieve a little of the tension that now surrounded them, a tension that had nothing to do with her nerves and everything to do with her libido. Something about Bruce's kiss had left her body heated to a degree that she hadn't expected and even now hadn't managed to cool down from. Maybe dinner would enable her to discover more about this softer side of Bruce and she knew that Alfred would never serve a sub-par meal to a guest, so of course the food would be delicious.

Leaning forward, she pressed her lips quickly and gently to Bruce's before smiling softly at him, enjoying the slightly stunned look that still graced his face, incredibly pleased at having managed to surprise the unflappable man behind the mask. Perhaps if she kept him on his toes, she wouldn't have to work so hard to convince him of the rightness of this relationship.

Gracefully rising from the couch, she allowed him to take her arm and escort her down the hall to the dining room. It was intimately set with fat white candles, flickering in the muted lights, their glass holders refracting the lights and sending them spinning across the room. The tablecloth was a deep burgundy and the drapes were pulled back so that moonlight flooded through the windows in streams and they could see the canopy of stars in the night sky. Diana had wondered what Alfred would do to set the scene for tonight's dinner, and whether or not Bruce had told him of the developments in their relationship, the man had obviously set a lovely and dreamy scene perfect for budding lovers.

Taking a seat as Bruce pulled out her chair, she laughingly smiled up at him, pleased by his elegant manners and the beauty that surrounded her tonight, an ideal setting and one from which Bruce had little escape. She knew, of course, that eventually he leave her to go to Gotham, but she was resigned to that fate for the evening and accepting of it. But right now, he was all hers and she intended to take shameless advantage of it.

Sipping the red wine that filled her glass, she watched Alfred came into the room bearing a tray laden with two bowls of salad, crisp and delicious. After he placed her salad down in front of her, she laid a hand on his arm and murmured, "Everything looks perfect tonight, Alfred. Thank you."

He gave her a hint of a smile, but his faded blue eyes gleamed with his pleasure at her words and he knew that all the effort he had put into making this evening a dream come true for the princess were worth it. His heart also hoped that tonight spark his charge into making a romantic overture of his own, particularly since Alfred knew that no matter how Master Bruce denied it, he was most definitely interested in the Amazon princess and beauty known to the world as Wonder Woman.

Diana turned back to her salad as Alfred left the room, forking up endive and radicchio before looking at the man seated across the table from her. "You have a lovely home, Bruce," she murmured, biting into the greens.

"All Alfred, I assure you," he murmured after finishing his first bite of salad.

"I'm sure that's true," Diana said with a laugh. "I have a feeling that without that man, this place would be falling down around your ears."

"And who would cook?" he asked, a smile teasing his lips.

"Certainly not the great Bruce Wayne," she retorted with a blinding smile. "Seriously, Bruce, do you realize what a treasure you have in Alfred?"

"Everyday," Bruce returned. "There's no one quite like him," he continued, glancing over at the kitchen door as Alfred bustled into the room, hands empty and face bland. Coming to halt, the older man announced, "I'm sorry, sir, but it seems you're needed in Gotham. Some sort of emergency involving the Gotham Bank and the misses Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy."

Bruce immediately got to his feet, his mask of emotionless and vengeance falling over his face as he turned to Diana, his eyes blue and cold as he stated, "I have to go."

Out of the corner of her eye, Diana watched as Alfred disappeared into the kitchen, giving her a moment to say her goodbyes to Bruce in private.

"Would you like me to – "she began, but she was interrupted by Bruce's harsh words filling the room.

"I don't need your help."

"I wasn't offering help, Bruce," she said, reigning in her impatience at his attitude and stepping close to him, laying a gentle hand on his cheek. "I was going to ask if you wanted me to wait here so that we could continue our time together later, after your patrol has ended."

"Go home, Princess."

She looked up into those hard blue eyes and she couldn't see a speck of warmth in their depths. It was as if every part of Bruce, every sweet moment they'd shared tonight, had disappeared with the emergence of Batman. This man looked cruel and cutting, nothing like the man she'd spent the past hour with, kissing and cuddling, enjoying their time in the firelight, just the two of them. Obviously that time had passed.

"I'd like to try this again, Bruce," she whispered before laying her lips gently on his. To her surprise, she found herself suddenly kissing air and opened her eyes to see Bruce striding away from her, each step eating up the ground as if he couldn't get away from her fast enough.

Emergency bedamned, she thought. "Did I just miss something here, Bruce?" she asked with a bite of sarcasm, anger starting to thread into her voice as she watched his retreating figure. "I thought you were going to give us a chance." She crossed her arms across her chest and tried desperately to hold onto the warmth that had pervaded her early this evening. Suddenly, the setting, the Bruce of earlier, didn't seem romantic but only a dream, a wish that she had wanted, but apparently not enough to make it work, to make them work.

"There is no us, Princess," he bit out, turning smoothly on one heel to look at her, blue eyes cold and passionless. "There's the mission and that's all. There's no room in my life for anything else. Not you, not anyone else." His voice rang clearly through the room and she felt his words batter at her heart, at the emotions that had filled her soul tonight. As joy deflated in her heart, she realized that she had tried, but that tonight had served little purpose other than to hurt her and to reinforce Bruce's need to be only the Batman.

Suddenly, it seemed that there was little she could do to convince him otherwise. She could only be herself and love him and those things apparently weren't enough to allow her into his life. Keeping her face steady and her body language calm, she said softly, "Now I know."

They'd needed more than a chance, she decided, watching his proud figure as he retreated, never looking back, no hesitation in his body; they'd needed faith, trust, and maybe even a miracle.

**_Next chapter: La Tortura – Bruce and Dick have a discussion about regrets…_**

_To Reviewer** Lauren – **A very romantic dinner and a very fun scene to write so far. I'm not sure if you're the only one who noticed or the only one who said anything, but you picked up my implications about the fire in this last chapter – how the shadows and light of the fire remind you of a certain couple. It should! So glad you like it and thanks!_

_To Reviewer **T** – Thanks! I really enjoyed writing the date. At least until the end. But it was fun to just do a little romance for once without anything else – no drama, no anything but the sweetness of their date. Good times. You only get to sleep in an extra half hour? I'd cry! Me and sleep get along pretty well whenever we get the chance. I'm trying to keep them in character as much as possible – keeping Diana strong and passionate, making sure that Bruce has trouble dealing with his emotions and is still the same Batman, maybe just a little softer around the edges. It's hard to do the big bad Bat on a date, you know? Thanks again!_

_To Reviewer **Brittany Brown** – Thanks! I'm so glad that you like it! It truly has become my favorite story to write and I'm not sure that I ever want it to end. But I also want them together. Ah, dilemmas…_


	12. La Tortura

**Title: La Tortura**

Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics or any of their characters.

Un-betaed version. If you notice any mistakes, please email or pm me. Thanks.

Thanks for all the reviews and the support! Sorry this chapter took a little while to get out – been a little under the weather and not in the mood to write. But it looks like I'm back!

Not sure how I did with Dick, but I tried!

"_Ay amor fue una tortura…" – Shakira_

He saw the smile that graced her face and wondered what she was thinking about, lost in her own world. No matter, there were moments now where all he needed was her smile – not that he would tell her that, of course. There was something in that smile that set a part him free, something in that smile that said this was a woman of hope and faith, a woman who wouldn't back down from fighting for the ideals and people she believed in, a woman who was now firmly stood at his side, even if the entire world wasn't aware of their arrangement.

He knew.

She knew. There were others, of course, but he knew what really mattered was the two of them understanding and encouraging what lay between them, allowing it the chance to grow. Once, he wouldn't have been able to name it love, but there was something in that smile that had given him the strength to reach for the stars and give them both the words that they had needed.

Looking into his memories of the past, he realized that it was more than just her smile, more than just Diana herself that had forced him into realizing that the first requirement of the mission was not to be alone; it was to protect. And it had taken someone who understood him and the workings of his brain in order to make him realize that – it had taken Dick.

_Flashback_

"There is no us, Princess," he bit out, turning smoothly on one heel to look at her, blue eyes cold and passionless. "There's the mission and that's all. There's no room in my life for anything else. Not you, not anyone else." His voice rang clearly through the room and she felt his words batter at her heart, at the emotions that had filled her soul tonight. As joy deflated in her heart, she realized that she had tried, but that tonight had served little purpose other than to hurt her and to reinforce Bruce's need to be only the Batman.

Suddenly, it seemed that there was little she could do to convince him otherwise. She could only be herself and love him and those things apparently weren't enough to allow her into his life. Keeping her face steady and her body language calm, she said softly, "Now I know."

They'd needed more than a chance, she decided, watching his proud figure as he retreated, never looking back, no hesitation in his body; they'd needed faith, trust, and maybe even a miracle.

--VvV—

Apparently miracles had been in short supply as of late.

In the weeks following the botched dinner date, Bruce huddled in the cave, trying desperately not to think about all that had done before as he sunk further and further into the personality and mindset of the Bat, as he struggled to rid Diana from his memory banks – the sweetness of her kiss, the softness of her touch, and the loveliness of her smile.

It seemed that no matter what he did, no matter how much he buried himself in his work, spending countless hours in Gotham patrolling and keeping watch, he couldn't seem to get her out of his mind. She was lodged in there firmly and much as he tried desperately to force her from that perch inside his brain, she stayed there, beautiful and full of that same grace and wit that he had always admired.

He had always been a little in love with the princess, he could admit that to himself now. There was something about Diana that made everyone she met fall in love with her just a little and he had proved to be no exception to that rule. But he had never expected that his feelings would start to grow until they pervaded his life, his thoughts, and he would never have believed it possible that the Amazon princess would return his feelings, would find comfort and solace and even happiness in his arms.

That night by the fire had been one of the simplest and best evenings he had ever spent with a woman, just snuggling by the fire, sharing the heat of their bodies and kisses that had seemed to sear his souls.

So, of course, he had done what he always did when things started to heat up – he had pushed her away. And those same reasons for which he had pushed her away were still prevalent, he tried to tell himself as he sat in his computer chair, hands steepled and mind weary. The mission would always come first, he knew that. The mission was what drove him everyday in order to save others from the same fate as himself, to bring back his parents in the only way he knew how.

If he had someone special in his life, that mission would take a backseat to them, of that he was sure. And if the splinters of doubt in his mind tried to tell him otherwise, tried to tell him that Diana was a part of that same mission as a whole, devoted to the same things as he was, that she too was busy with her own work as an ambassador and peace keeper, well, he was determined to push those thoughts out of his head and focus on the present and the city of Gotham, just as he always had.

Hearing the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs from the Manor, he turned slowly to see who was interrupted his solitude and who would dare try to talk to him when he was in this mood. A man appeared out of the shadows, the lines of his face a little haggard and drawn, the body looking lithe and muscled, as it always did, but there was a sense of emaciation about him as well. The hair, normally short and casually chopped, was now a little long and unruly, as if he hadn't found either the time or the inclination for a cut in some time. His eyes, usually lit with a teasing twinkle, appeared dull and listless and something in Bruce's throat seized at the appearance of the son, at the obvious sadness that hung around Dick like a cloak.

He had seen his son a few weeks ago, just before he had pushed Diana out of his life, but he hadn't realized that Dick was tottering on the edge of depression like this, that the teasing son that he had known was now almost a waif, sad and lean. It hurt his heart to see his son like this, but he wasn't sure what to do, what to say, how to comfort Dick. He'd never been any good at that and usually, at the first sign of intimacy with another person, he pushed them away.

Just like he'd pushed Diana away.

Hesitantly, he said, "It's good to see you, Dick." His son was out of costume, dressed in civilian garb, hair presumably a little mussed and flattened from the ride over here. He watched as his son pulled over a chair and sunk into it, elbows resting on his knees and he laid his face in his hands, staring ahead at the computer.

"Alfred told me you were down here," Dick answered, crossing his feet at the ankles and leaning back in the chair with a little sigh. "Working on anything interesting?"

Somehow, it always came down to work between them, as if they couldn't bring themselves to talk about anything else, anything that came a little closer to the heart of one another. Bruce knew that he hadn't been a good parent to Dick, that he had let the death of his own parents let him become something that had changed him – he had become the Bat. He had repressed his emotions, pushing them deep so that no one could ever hurt or harm him the way that the loss of those two people had.

And then he'd allowed Dick into his life. He'd never regretted that move, but he regretted his treatment of the boy at times. He was proud of the man that his adopted son had become, but somehow, he'd never been able to find the words to tell Dick that he cared, that he was proud of him, that he wished they could have had normal lives and normal relationships.

Even now, as the words bubbled about his mind, he kept them inside and did what any other parent would have done – worried about his son.

"A possible robbery at Gotham National next week. I've heard rumors that it might be an inside job. Working on who's behind it," Bruce stated in a deep voice, all the while looking over at his listless son, wondering if he dared to ask. That was normally Alfred's job, to find out what was wrong with Dick or Tim and report back to Bruce, whether Bruce wanted to hear it or not. In truth, Alfred had been the father of the entire household and Bruce often worried that he wasn't up to the task, even now. Especially now.

He'd ruined so many good things and people in his life because of his mission. He'd tossed Diana out, been utterly careless of her feelings, and he'd never been the kind of man that he should have been to Dick. He could analyze a crime, determine its culprit, the reason behind it, everything about it, but add in an emotional factor and Bruce simply shut down.

Perhaps it was time he opened up a bit. He'd never been there for Dick and maybe it was time to start, to become the kind of parent he should have been, regardless of how long ago his son had left the nest.

"Dick," he began, rubbing the back of his neck in a sign of weariness and nerves that he didn't often let escape, "I don't like to pry, but…is something wrong?"

Uncrossing his legs, Dick turned to look at Bruce, an incredulous expression on his face. "I don't think you've ever asked me that before."

"I haven't been the best father figure, Dick, I know that. And…I'm sorry for it. I lost something when my parents died, Dick, and I couldn't figure out how to give you what you needed, to be who you needed me to be."

"I think that's the longest sentence I've ever heard from you, Bruce," Dick answered, a teasing glint back in his eyes.

Giving his adopted son a hard glance, he replied, his voice softer than his usual harsh tones, "I have regrets about a lot of things, Dick, and the way I've treated you is one of them."

"How do you move past those regrets?" Dick asked quietly, sneaking a glance at Bruce as he ran his fingers through his tousled hair.

"Some things you can't," Bruce answered, thinking about Diana's smile, about how cruelly and insensitively he had treated her that night. He turned to look at his son and a fresh flood of regrets filled him that he hadn't been able to be the parent that Dick had needed, that he had let his own missions and needs get in the way of his son's.

"And some things," he continued, "you have to put in the past and try to change now."

"What if it's too late?" Dick said, his eyes wet and wild as they met Bruce's. And somehow, Bruce knew that Dick wasn't referring to their situation but to something else, most likely whatever had been keeping him from eating properly and had apparently brought him here today. And no matter what hard words had been between Bruce and Dick before, today was changing all that, today was bringing about something new, even if it was only little steps on their road to recovering the relationship they should have had.

Bruce turned his chair towards Dick. He couldn't reach out, he wasn't sure that either of them was ready for that kind of connection, but he could forge one of eyes, of visual contact. "Tell me what's wrong," he stated, his voice gravelly and deep, but soft as he faced his son.

"I miss Donna," Dick replied softly. "She was one of my best friends and things aren't the same without her. And now I realize that…"

And recognizing that look of sadness and despair on his son's face, Bruce realized what the problem was. Apparently he had given his son the trait of pushing people into certain roles – he himself had made Diana into a friend and nothing more and now he wasn't even sure that they would be friends anymore. And it looked like Dick had done the same thing with Donna – had decided that she would be a friend, that there was no romantic interest between them.

Looks like he'd been wrong.

"That maybe your feelings for Donna ran deeper than you'd thought?" Bruce asked quietly. Seeing the look of surprise on his son's face, Bruce self-mockingly answered, "You're not the only one, son."

"You care for Diana?" Dick asked in shock. "She told me that she was in love with you, but I never imagined that you would allow yourself to return those feelings."

In a rare moment of honesty, of bonding with his son, Bruce answered, "I'm not sure that I allowed anything, Dick. She's there, inside me, forcing me to face those feelings. And I…I pushed her away."

He watched as Dick shook his head, "Why am I not surprised?" Standing, he walked a few steps, staring at the computer screen for a few moments before continuing, "I've learned something, Bruce, during my time away from here. I've learned that the mission isn't the only important thing in my life, that I have friends and people who are very important to me."

Turning to face Bruce, he ran a hand through his hair and said quietly, "And now I've lost one of those people and I'll never get to tell her, never get to see that smile again or listen to her laugh. You spoke earlier of regrets, Bruce, and Donna's my regret. If I can say anything to you now, it's that Diana loves you. Do you want to wake up one morning and realize that you can never see her again? That the one person who brought hope and faith into your life is gone?" His shoulders shook with rage at the thought of never seeing Donna again and Dick's voice began to quake, filled with emotion.

"Don't regret that you let her out of your life. You need someone like her, Bruce, someone to remind you about the lighter side of the world and who will work beside you, who will understand what you do and why you do it. Don't toss her aside, Bruce."

And with a slight smile playing at his lips, Bruce asked, "When did you get to be so wise?"

He didn't want to think about Dick's words right now, didn't want to examine their significance and face that his son was right – he didn't want to live with this regret or without Diana.

"Been spending a lot of time with Alfred lately, "Dick answered, a smile finally lighting his face and the twinkle coming back into his eyes. "Speaking of which, how about some lunch?"

Bruce looked over at the computer screen, at the work that he'd been engrossed in until Dick's arrival and then glanced at Dick's face, much happier now than when he'd first walked into the Bat-cave. And for once, he put aside the mission and the past to focus on the present.

"Sounds good."

**_Next chapter: Coming soon…_**

_To Reviewer **T** – Apparently I enjoy writing interrupted dates. I see to do it often enough. It's still really difficult to keep these characters in character, but I also enjoy the challenge and in this story, they seem to flow fairly well. I enjoy it so much too. So, are you still on holiday or is it over and done with now? I am definitely not an early bird so much as a night owl. I love sleeping late and honestly, I just love to sleep!_


	13. Walking on Sunshine

**Title: Walking on Sunshine**

**Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics or any of their characters.**

**Thanks to LG for the beta!**

"_I'm walking on sunshine…" – Katrina & the Waves_

Staring at the stars, Diana was reminded of more than just that first botched date between herself and Bruce. Their twinkling reminded her of the moments that had followed, the action-filled days of missions and the lonely night wondering if this was to be her future. Her normally optimistic spirit had been doused, at least somewhat, in the wake of Bruce dismissing her from his life. Her spirit had plunged into a deeper murkiness than it was used to – there was no Donna to fill the days with laughter, no one to stand beside her, cajoling and giggling. Simply, there was no Donna.

She had missed her sister fiercely those first nights after she had left the Manor so abruptly, needing someone to talk to. Reflecting back, she realized that Donna had been a mother to herself as well, a font of unstinting support and stalwart affection that had always been there with laughing eyes and a bright smile.

As the weeks passed and Bruce had yet to change his mind about their relationship, Diana had finally found her soul once again filled with peace, her naturally buoyant spirits raised by doing nothing more than her daily routine. A man wasn't needed to complete the picture; she had simply wanted this particular one, one who would understand her commitment to the causes of peace, hope, and the Amazonian ideals.

But he had told her no.

And it was about time that she accepted that.

Standing on the balcony of the embassy, staring up into the night sky, she realized that she had been putting off acceptance, that she hadn't truly wanted to face the fact that Bruce simply wasn't interested in her. At least, not as interested as he was in his mission.

She understood – it was a necessary part of his life, something that had fed his soul and softened his need for revenge. Donning the cape and cowl was the way that Bruce had chosen to honor his parents and to protect his city and its people. She respected his choice and knew that he had pushed himself to the limits of his strength and mental capacity, all in the name of love.

Some people wouldn't understand that, wouldn't understand that Bruce was a man of love first and foremost. He simply chose to express it in a way that most people wouldn't understand or appreciate fully, if at all. He had loved once in the traditional fashion, as a child loves his parent, and he had paid a price for that love, a price that allowed him to be the man that he was now, a man who stood for justice and as a symbol of hope in his city.

Who wouldn't love that kind of man? A man who risked himself day in and day out to do something with his life, to be a hero, to prevent the tragedy that had shaped his life from happening to others. Batman had been forged in the darkness, made alive in the shadows, and had taken one night of misfortune and heartbreak in his life and made himself rise out of it. Batman she understood; it was he who was worried about her place in his life and how their growing together would affect his life, his mission.

Bruce she wondered about. Where did she fit in the life of Bruce Wayne?

Out of the shadows, she saw a figure emerge, his flight path bringing him closer and closer to where she stood, in the moon and the star light, her heart in her throat, that same fluttering sensation she had of late experienced around him pervading her once again. She composed herself, pulling her back straight and tucking her hair behind her ears, watching silently as he progressed in the shadows towards where she stood, his path effortless and a thing of beauty and faith to watch. He put his entire life in the hands of what was little more than rope and metal as he flew in the way that she could only admire.

He landed on the balcony beside her in a smooth movement, easily transitioning between the sky and the wrought metal of the balcony. He slowly drew himself up, surprising her when he left his cape unfettered at his sides rather than pulling it around himself, that typical arrogant gesture of self-protection and domination.

"Good evening, Bruce," she said calmly, her face breaking out in a hesitant smile, a gesture of friendship and welcome that he honestly wasn't sure he expected.

He inclined his head, still unsure of why he had come, of what he wanted to say, of how to even begin to tell her of all the thoughts flooding his brain, the regrets and recriminations for what he had done to her on that date, how he had treated her. He took a slow step forward and then halted, his mouth dry and his tongue positively limp. There was no quick words, no easy words, nothing that could fill the silence and adequately express his idiocy and his wish that he handled things differently that night.

Nothing except –

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what, Bruce?" Diana said, her gaze resting on his and her lips quirking in the beginnings of a true smile of affection. Something told her that this was it, that this was the apology that she had somehow been expecting, that this was the affirmation of his feelings, the fact that he had actually taken the step to come here tonight, to apologize. His voice had been rough and it had sounded to her like the words had scraped out of his throat, ill-used, and she assumed that it wasn't often that someone managed to get Bruce to utter those words, words that had pierced her heart and given her a small piece of happiness.

Even if he wanted nothing more than to be friends with her once again, he was, presumably, apologizing for the rough and callous way that he had treated her on the infamous date.

"For a lot of things," he answered softly, his voice gravelly and quiet, the voice of Bruce Wayne rather than Batman. Noticing the pallor of his skin, it occurred to Diana that he appeared to be nervous and she rejoiced in the fact that something about her had made the Dark Knight nervous. Reaching up, she placed a hand on his cheek, feeling the stubble and the roughness of the skin beneath her fingers.

"What things, Bruce?"

"I've been an idiot, Diana," he murmured, leaning his face into her hand, grateful for nothing more than the fact that she hadn't kicked him out yet. She didn't appear to be angry. In fact, she was touching him, an affectionate gesture that he couldn't help but revel in, that told him that he still stood a chance, that he could repent and earn her love.

"Dick brought a few truths home to me," he began, taking a step closer until they were but inches from one another. "He told me that I need someone like you in my life, someone who brings light and hope without even trying. He told me that I need someone like you to fight beside me, to understand who I am and what I do with my live, to understand the sacrifices that I have to make because of what I have chosen to become.

"I told you once that I have faith in you, in your mission, and I need that faith, Diana." He took a step closer until their bodies were brushing. She hadn't said a word, but he could see a light beginning to glow in her eyes, a smile rising to her quivering lips, and a part of him wanted to shout out to the world that he'd finally found her, a woman to stand by both Batman and Bruce Wayne.

"He told me not to toss you aside, not to wake up one morning and regret what I'd done and the choices I'd made with you."

Closing his eyes for a moment's courage, he continued, "I woke up this morning, Diana, and I realized that I was alone, that I didn't have to be, that I could have reached for you and bring that hope and faith closer to a man who spends so much of his life shrouded in the darkness."

"You're not alone, Bruce, you've never been alone." She moved until their bodies were together, sliding her arms around his neck and resting her head against his shoulder. "You've always had people around you in the darkness. You've just chosen not to acknowledge that fact."

Brushing her lips over the small patch of skin that was revealed by his cowl, she said, "Let me in, let us in, Bruce, and I think that you'll find that you've had hope and faith all along."

He basked in her warmth for a minute, then opened the doors to the bedroom beyond the balcony and pulled her inside. He flipped off his cowl, tossing it back behind his head and asking, "And love?"

"And love," she agreed, drawing his head down to meet hers in a kiss.

_**Next chapter: Day After Day – the return of Donna Troy…(And I promise, this one will be up on or by Wednesday)**_

_To Reviewer** SSJO4 Mewtwo – **Bruce always reacts in the same manner. At least, he does when I write him. I'd be more surprised if he didn't. But then, sometimes I just enjoy predictability and Bruce is one of those times…Thanks for the review!_

_To Reviewer **T** - Thanks! I'm glad that you enjoyed the last chapter. I enjoy writing the connection between Bruce and Dick, but unfortunately, I don't feel that I'm very good at writing Dick. But I'm trying my best, mostly thanks to a lot of help and my driving me crazy asking them if I did a good job and making sure it was okay. I prefer the dark and brooding types. And I love Alfred too - so he has to get in there all the time!_

_I enjoy writing interrupted dates, usually where Bruce turns out to be an idiot. But I like to make him turn out sweet in the end too, like with this chapter. Keeping characters in character is often so difficult, especially when you put them in situations where you're not sure how they will react - like a date. I think that it's difficult to write characters no matter if they're yours or someone else's._

_I can't believe that you're still on holiday! I need another holiday once again. I love me some holiday. You're basically back in school, but there's still a few days left to enjoy my stories! hehe. And perhaps enjoy your family and some well-deserved sleep as well. I can't imagine being cranky becuz you're sleeping later than 8! Crazy!_


	14. Day After Day

**Title: Day After Day**

**Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics or any of their characters.**

**Betaed by LG! And yes, thanks to her, I am considering a 15th chapter, but I'm going to need sufficient push from all of you!**

"_Looking out of my lonely room, day after day; Bring it home, baby, make it soon; I give my love to you…" – Badfinger_

He only regretted that it had taken the death of her beloved sister in order to bring them to this point, that it had been the loss of someone Diana loved so dearly that had served as the catalyst for them coming together. He knew that she still missed her, that sometimes she woke to a tearstained pillow, her dreams filled with memories of her sister and the bond that they'd shared, one not only rare but unlike any other he'd ever known. A part of him realized that she still did not believe that her sister was gone, but who was he to douse that wish of hers – he had felt that way in the past and somehow he knew that if anyone could make that sort of thing true, it was Diana. She had a faith steeped in the gods and her own beliefs – she continued to fight even when others deemed it hopeless.

And standing there in the darkness that night, things changed and hope was reborn once again as he realized that faith was something that simply couldn't be analyzed or measured but felt in the heart, in the soul.

They stood there, facing the shadows and the night sky, and Diana turned back to him, a smile on her face and tears in her eyes as she glanced back, calmly stating, "Donna has returned."

A shock lanced through him quickly followed by disbelief and softly, gently, not wanting to question her beliefs or dispel the feeling, he asked, "Are you sure?" Pulling her into his arms, he wrapped her in his warmth and protection, unsure if Diana simply wanted to believe in her sister and her gods so badly that she was imagining things. And yet, he also knew that Diana wasn't one for fantasy or fairy tales, she stood on solid ground in life, firmly rooted in the everyday and the fantastic, in her mission and in her gods.

It wasn't something that Bruce could even begin to understand, that kind of blind faith and devotion, but he knew that Diana believed whole-heartedly and that she saw evidence that her gods existed in everything around her. And now, she believed that her sister had returned from a death that they had all witnessed through video and those who had been there that fateful day.

It had been that day that had rocked Dick's life, forever changing his son, and Bruce couldn't help but wonder that perhaps if so many people wanted Donna back then she would indeed return. Dick seemed to have so many regrets, so many wishes, and so many of them now focused on Diana and the place that he felt that she should have had in his life.

Pulling Diana closer, he realized that he understood regrets now and that it had taken his son to point out to him the fallacy of trying to kick Diana out of his heart and his life. And if it would take faith in Donna's return, even just a sliver, to help pull Dick out of the sadness and misery that had shrouded him since Donna's death, then he couldn't help but want that, want Dick to find that same happiness that he himself had found, in the arms of an Amazon Princess. She had taught him about faith, about peace, and about love in a way that he hadn't understood before, perhaps hadn't been able to appreciate with any of the other women that had entered his life.

Then he felt a caress along his jaw and looked down in Diana's smiling face, her eyes still wet with unshed tears as she whispered, "I just know it, Bruce. She's alive, she's returned."

And it was hard to doubt that kind of faith, that kind of quiet strength and belief. He brushed his cheek along hers and whispered in her ear, "Go be with her."

She leaned back and, her lips quivering with a mixture of dawning joy and utter relief, murmured, "Go with me?"

"This is a sister moment," he returned, his voice gruff and gravelly. "I don't belong."

She kissed him gently on the lips, the passion between them flaring instantly but each of them clamped down on the wave of lust and emotions, letting the kiss remain one of gratitude and of love.

And then, with a last smile, she took to the skies in search of her sister.

Her first thought when recognition finally filtered through was that of her friends, the others that she'd fought beside, grown up with, and loved throughout so many years of her life. She could sense the truth, sense the reality behind the situation that she was trapped in and see what she truly had been forced to become – a match lit to stoke the fire of the Titan of Myth and bring about the gateway to all worlds, bring about their domination throughout all worlds.

She had been used.

And to stop it, she had to face what had been, what she had done since she had been killed and reborn, how many innocents had been killed in the Titan of Myth's search for complete and utter power. And then she had to overcome it.

The first step had been understanding, the second had been apologies.

And all the while, he watched, he wondered what would happen now that Donna had reentered his life. He watched her with Roy, watched as she cried, as she bandaged the archer's wound, and she broke into pieces because of what she had done. And as much as he wished it were him, he knew that things were unstable right now and that the Titans and Outsiders needed a leader, someone to help figure out how they were all going to survive this. There were few resources, few to help, and even fewer of the Teen Titans and those with them to fight.

Rather than wonder and worry, he decided to focus on the battle ahead, to make sure there would be another day, a tomorrow where he could tell Donna of the feelings that she evoked in him, of the regrets and of what he wished could have been…and now, perhaps, could be.

As for Donna, she needed that, she needed Nightwing to step up and lead, to rally the troops and solve the mystery of how they were going to survive. With him, leadership was innate, inborn, and he rose to the position as if it were as natural as breathing. It was a trait that she admired and had earned her respect and appreciation countless times and she needed it now more than ever – she needed to know that he would lead because she trusted him to do it as she trusted no other.

And so the battle ensued. They were outnumbered as they had never been before, fighting against men and women of power, of royalty – fighting against the Titans of Myth.

Donna's quick thinking doomed them to eternity in Tartarus, tricking those that she had called husband and family into believing that she had opened the gateway to all worlds, that she was going to let them proceed with their reign of terror for time without end. And instead, they were imprisoned in the one place that they feared, given eternal punishment and torture.

And Donna was free and back in the midst of those who had always loved her, who had always been friends and family.

He watched as she rushed first towards Roy, wrapping him in a tight hug before kissing his cheek, whispering, "Thanks for coming after me. I love you."

And Roy, in return, gave her a rakish smile before answering with a crushing embrace, "The feeling's mutual, kiddo."

Pulling out of his arms, Donna dashed over to Cassie, giving the Wonder Girl a joyous hug and a smile that glowed as brightly as the stars that lit her costume. They clung for a moment, Cassie tearfully whispering, "I missed you!"

Then she eased away from Cassie and looked directly over at Dick. She could see something in the lines of his body, could see that his reaction was not simply one of happiness, but of question. And before she knew what she was doing, she was answering that question, a growing smile on her face as Donna went striding straight into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and placing her lips on his. And in that kiss, he told her exactly how much he had missed her, all the regrets flooding out of his system to be replaced with a quiet contentment that he had only ever found with Donna.

He pulled her close and their embrace continued for long moments, each of them taking comfort in the presence of the other, letting their spirits heal after so much time apart, letting everyone, including themselves, know that things had changed from friendship into more and that was the way that it was going to be from here on in.

Dick and Donna.

They pulled back, their lips clinging for one last second before they looked at one another, smiles on each of their faces that echoed the ones in their hearts. And they turned to their friends and, without another word, began to figure out what came after this battle and what needed to be done.

In the end, Donna sent her friends back to Earth, choosing to remain on New Cronus, to make it her home, a move that simply felt right to her, something that she needed to do.

But she wasn't alone. Looking over, she watched as the boy she had known forever scraped a fallen lock back over his tousled black hair, sending her a sexy smile that just about melted her. Things had indeed changed and she liked the way things were going, that they were finally looking up and in the right direction, Dick at her side.

And then she felt another presence and looked up with a smile, knowing that her sister was descending. Before she could even say a word of welcome, Diana had wrapped Donna in her arms, a smile on her lips and her embrace saying everything, re-forging the bond between the two sisters. "Somehow," Diana whispered into Donna's hair, "I knew – I knew you were still alive."

They pulled back, holding hands, still linked, and Donna couldn't help but marvel at the joy on her sister's face, a joy that spoke of love and of true happiness. Obviously, Donna decided, something had happened to Diana during their separation and she intended to find out exactly what it was as soon as the moment felt right. But for right now, she was content to simply bask in the glow that was her older sister, to revel in the rightness that surrounded all of them – herself, Dick, and Donna.

And Bruce.

_**The End. I was planning to do another chapter, but it's simply not in me right now. So I hope you liked it and thanks for all the support during this story! And so ends my first foray into the comic world of DC.**_

_To Reviewer **T** – Thanks! I'm glad that you liked the sweetness of the last chapter. I was hoping it would turn out well. It was one of those chapters I wasn't particularly a fan of, but I had a feeling that others wouldn't mind anyway. And everyone loves Alfred! He's the father figure that everyone wants and somehow, Bruce gets and maybe doesn't always appreciate._

_If I make my own characters, they tend to become little clones of me and that's no fun. But with these two, I have to make sure that I'm staying within the confines of the episode, of how they acted and reacted to things. Which is still fun._

_See, I'm not used to people getting holidays from work. Particularly not long ones. I get my week long vacation and that's it. But school I'd get a month or so during the winter, so I assumed big break school. Silly me. That's what time I get up too – 6:30 usually. You have to get everyone else out of bed? Really?_

_I'll let you in on a secret – sometimes I write these at work! No telling though! Hehe._


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